


Pull me from the dark and show me hope again.

by KittieHill



Series: Fight til we fall [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Another Case fic, Anxiety Attacks, Awesome Town, Bed-Wetting, Best Fish and Chips in the country, Bit more Mystrade, Case Fic - Sort of, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Discussion of Anal Sex, Eating Disorders, Evil Seagulls, First Orgasm, First Time, Fluff, Future Parentlock, He'll be out next chapter, Heteropaternal superfecundation, Hint of Mystrade, Homemade Sex Toys, Intense Orgasms, Intercrural Sex, John cuddles baby, John is a Saint, Just for a little bit, Kissing, Lestrade is badass, Love Bites, M/M, Making Love, Masturbation Interruptus, Mention of previous abusive relationship, Mentioned puppy play and BDSM, Misunderstandings, Mycroft blushes at boobies, Negotiations, Night Terrors, Nightmares, OFC - Freeform, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Parentlock, Poor Sherlock, Previous Abuse, Prostate Massage, Relapse, Return of the Suck Me Tshirt, Rimming, Romantic Gestures, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Sherlock Bottoms, Sherlock goes a bit mad, Sherlock is a Mess, Sherlock solves the case, Sherlock's in Rehab, Sherlocks parents - Freeform, Shower Frottage, Smut, Surrogacy, Swearing, Triggers, Twins, Victor is in his head, Vomiting, Wakes & Funerals, Webcam Wanking, You may notice i love Whitby, but Mycroft to the rescue!, future Johnlock, going on holiday, handjobs, old photographs, there will be smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:23:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 61,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3574539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/pseuds/KittieHill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I will give trigger warnings each chapter but please heed the tags. I can't handle the thought of upsetting somebody</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will give trigger warnings each chapter but please heed the tags. I can't handle the thought of upsetting somebody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock hadn’t always had a strained relationship with food; his childhood was happy, he enjoyed running around the Holmes Manor with Redbeard, going on adventures or tormenting Mycroft to his heart’s content. His troubles had begun at university where he was away from home for the first time, without the comforts of his brother and parents Sherlock found that he was isolated and thrown into a new uncaring environment in which he floundered. He was successful academically, he was more intelligent than the people paid to teach him but he was socially awkward, unable to keep up with social conventions or basic conversation without upsetting somebody with his barbed comments and deductions. The gifts which allowed him to be a genius were also the same burdens which kept him alone.  
> Unable to cope with the strangeness of his new situation; Sherlock found that controlling his calories and watching what he ate made him feel better. Watching the scales document his weight loss gave him a sense of pride which rivalled accomplishment; he enjoyed lifting his shirt and watching the once flabby stomach become toned, then thin enough to count each individual rib.

Sherlock looked over at the table of muffins, scones and coffee laid out on the trestle tables in Scotland Yard’s Conference room with terror; he watched as John approached the table and finished his scone with three large bites before swallowing down the piss-weak beverage they passed off as coffee in this place. The detective looked around the room and watched as his incompetent colleagues ate and drank their fill as they chatted, mushed up food and crumbs falling from their lips to cover their fronts. Sherlock’s stomach rolled and heaved as he watched Anderson lick his fingers clean of jam and cream before moving back to the table to pick up another muffin

The detective was outside of the room before John even realised; Sherlock walked to the bathroom, locking himself in a cubicle and resting his head against the cold tiles and breathing through the nausea until he felt able to continue. His thoughts were interrupted by the familiar footfall of John entering the toilets,

‘Sherlock?’ the doctor asked loudly ‘you ok?’

‘Fine John’ Sherlock lied ‘Feel nauseous, must have been the fumes from the experiment’

‘I see’ John grumbled ‘Do you want any food keeping? You’ve been awake all night’

‘No thank you’ Sherlock replied ‘I’ll get something later’

Sherlock listened as John retreated from the bathroom and exhaled shakily. It was becoming harder to lie to John.

* * *

 

Sherlock hadn’t always had a strained relationship with food; his childhood was happy, he enjoyed running around the Holmes Manor with Redbeard, going on adventures or tormenting Mycroft to his heart’s content. His parents were loving and gentle, giving all children their affection and care in equal measures. His troubles had begun at university where he was away from home for the first time, without the comforts of his brother and parents Sherlock found that he was isolated and thrown into a new uncaring environment in which he floundered. He was successful academically, he was more intelligent than the people paid to teach him but he was socially awkward, unable to keep up with social conventions or basic conversation without upsetting somebody with his barbed comments and deductions. The gifts which allowed him to be a genius were also the same burdens which kept him alone.

Unable to cope with the strangeness of his new situation; Sherlock found that controlling his calories and watching what he ate made him feel better. Watching the scales document his weight loss gave him a sense of pride which rivalled accomplishment; he enjoyed lifting his shirt and watching the once flabby stomach become toned, then thin enough to count each individual rib.

He was happy with his appearance; previous whenever Sherlock looked into the mirror he saw a fat, gawky teenager with too prominent features whereas now, the Sherlock who stared back was almost unrecognisable with his thin, angular frame, his muscles tight and focussed and his pale skin perfectly unmarked by puberty. His issues had begun with his return home for the Christmas break; the first one since he had left for university and the first one he had spent with Mycroft for almost three years due to his brothers demanding schedule.

‘Sherlock?’ John’s voice again ‘Are you still in here?’

‘What John?’ Sherlock replied testily ‘Do you often bother people on the toilet?’

‘Not usually… but you’ve been in here almost 40 minutes’ John whispered ‘Are you ok?’

‘Fine’ he said, attempting to keep his voice calm ‘Can we go home yet?’

‘Yeah I finished the paperwork without you’ John complained ‘so we can go’

Sherlock flushed the chain as he left to strengthen his lie before exiting the cubicle and walking to wash his hands; he looked into the mirror and saw himself staring back. His chin looked flabby and he could have sworn he saw jowls attempting to form; he used his fingers to pull back the skin and stared into the mirror before catching John’s eyes. He cleaned his hands and picked up a paper towel to dry them before breezing past John and beginning his descent downstairs to hail a cab.

* * *

 

John wasn’t an idiot; regardless of what the Holmes brother’s thought he was actually fairly intelligent, he was also a bloody good doctor which is why, when he looked at Sherlock he was certain that the man was obsessively focussed on his weight and food intake. John had watched the detective refuse food or cut it up and move it around the plate until it looked like it had been eaten, he had even seen the man store food in a napkin and fold it into his pocket to hide in order to trick John into believing he had eaten. The doctor watched as his friend’s weight fluctuated; only by a few pounds but John’s doctor's eye could tell, whenever John noticed that Sherlock looked heathier, the detective would begin to live on water, coffee and an apple until his cheeks once more looked sallow and his eyes were dull.

John followed Sherlock down the Yard stairs and into a cab which had magically arrived; climbing inside he sat beside his best friend and cautiously watched him from the corner of his eye.

‘What?’ Sherlock asked

‘What?’ John replied too quickly

‘Stop staring at me’ the detective glared, his hand moving to stroke his jaw and cheek to check for bits.

‘Are you feeling alright?’ John asked in his best doctor tone ‘You look pale’

‘I’m fine’ Sherlock insisted before staring out of the window and ignoring all of John’s further conversation.

* * *

 

Back in the flat, the men went their separate ways; John moved to put on the kettle whilst Sherlock insisted he wanted a shower before he attempted to sleep now the case was over. Sherlock grabbed his towel and walked into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes and looking at himself in the mirror as he kicked the scales from their storage space near the sink. He removed his watch ( _extra weight)_ and stood on the footpads, watching the dial turn until it reached 8 stone 4 pounds. Sherlock grimaced and shook his head at his gain, a sick and heavy feeling in his stomach as he stepped into the shower and turned on the water.

His mind travelled back to university, to Victor and the one and only relationship that Sherlock had ever indulged in. They had met at Fresher’s week when Sherlock had tried to be a normal student; he had gone to the student union and sat with a group of boys who also looked new and nervous, they had had a few drinks and quickly discovered Sherlock’s talent for deducing situations and reading people which was then the evening’s entertainment as each man asked for Sherlock’s opinion on which girls would be the easiest conquests. Sherlock had told them and the boy’s had left him alone to go and stalk their prey;

‘Can I sit here?’ a male voice asked forcing Sherlock to look up and nod quickly,

‘I hate these things’ the man smiled ‘I’m Victor’

‘Sherlock’ the brunette smiled, taking the other boys hand in a firm handshake.

The teenagers made conversation about their home life and where they had travelled until a young, very angry girl made her way over to the two and poured a drink over Sherlock’s head

‘Why did you say I was easy?’ the girl shrieked,

Sherlock gaped for a moment; his mouth opening and closing until he gathered his wits and began to deduce, streaming information on the girl’s background which left her stunned and emotional. She ran from the bar in tears closely followed by her friends who glared angrily at Sherlock as they passed.

‘Well… I should get going’ Sherlock mumbled, embarrassed and ashamed.

‘Listen, my flat isn’t far and you’ll get cold if you go outside that wet’ Victor insisted ‘How about you dry off at mine and then go from there?’

Sherlock nodded timidly and finished his drink before following Victor from the bar.

The two men had walked quickly across the campus until they reached Victor’s flat; it was a small one bedroomed apartment which was sparsely furnished but pleasantly inviting. Sherlock thanked Victor as the man handed him a towel, drying his curls and clothing as best he could without getting undressed.

‘I have spare clothes, they might be a bit small’ Victor smiled ‘but they’ll do whilst yours dry’

Sherlock nodded and accepted the dry clothes; moving to change in the bathroom and looking at himself in Victor’s mirror.

Sherlock had thought he had made a friend; thought that he had found somebody to confide in and rely upon. He was wrong.

* * *

 

‘I’m making toast, do you want some?’ John asked from outside the door as Sherlock showered.

‘No’ Sherlock replied curtly,

‘When did you last eat?’ John asked,

 _Two days, sixteen hours, forty-three minutes, twenty-one seconds ago_ – _give or take the time in the shower._

‘Yesterday’ Sherlock shouted back ‘Can I have some peace please?’

‘Fine, fine’ John grumbled as he walked away ‘Do you want tea?’

‘No’

John walked back to the kitchen and lifted his mobile from his pocket; opening a new text message he composed a simple text and sent it to Mycroft’s personal number

**We need to talk – JW**

He had hardly had time to put his phone on the table top when the reply tone pinged;

**Tomorrow. I’ll collect you – MH**

John sighed and sipped his tea as his mind whirled.

* * *

 

The black sleek governmental car was waiting a block away in the usual place in which Mycroft usually kidnapped John. John checked around him before climbing in and sitting opposite the umbrella holding politician,

‘Mycroft’

‘Dr Watson’ Mycroft grinned ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘I’m worried about Sherlock’ John began, his hand rubbing his neck nervously ‘He’s getting thinner, he’s not eating’

‘I see’ Mycroft looked away and out of the window ‘Tell me, has my brother ever told you about his time at university?’

John shook his head and stared over at the man opposite.

‘What I am about to tell you has to be kept in the strictest confidence’ Mycroft insisted and for once, his blustered threats actually sounded genuine ‘My brother would not appreciate me telling you the story’

John nodded and settled himself against the comfortable and heated seat.

‘My brother was a happy child; adventurous and playful’ Mycroft’s eyes seemed to become wistful as he spoke ‘when he went to university something changed inside him; he became withdrawn and hostile. We had once been so close but after his first year, he turned his back on me and made biting comments about me and my parents. His body which had always been so healthy and robust was suddenly thin and sickly; when he lived at the manor he would spend hours helping cook make jams or pies from the apples in the orchards or he would be riding the horses across our land. He was fit and healthy until he moved to university’

‘What happened?’ John asked,

‘He met a boy named Victor Trevor’ Mycroft spat the name as though the name itself held a bad taste ‘Victor seemed nice enough at first; he was also interested in science and theology and the pair would spend hours together which gradually turned into somewhat of a romantic liaison… at least in Sherlock’s eyes’

John’s stomach ached with a strange pang of jealousy at the thought. Something the doctor thought best not to dwell on.

‘Sherlock was besotted with the boy. He moved into Victor’s apartment and away from the flat in which I subsidised for him, he spent all of his time with Victor and his behaviour began to change. He stopped contacting my parents or me, whenever I attempted to visit Victor turned me away with various excuses. He was isolating my brother’

John clenched his fists tightly as he listened,

‘We finally convinced him to visit one year for Christmas; our Grandmother had arrived from France and was spending the festive season with us for the first time so we wanted everyone to be together’ Mycroft sighed ‘the Sherlock who walked through the door that year was not my brother’

‘What happened?’ John asked,

‘He was severely underweight, almost dangerously so. His hair was falling out in clumps and his skin was deathly pale’ Mycroft whispered, emotion clouding his eyes ‘He looked like a prisoner of war’

John shook his head and looked out of the window at the passing cars and pedestrians.

‘My mother burst into tears when she saw him; my granny refused to believe that that was her little Lockie and my father?’ Mycroft scoffed ‘he locked himself in the woodshed and didn’t return until night’

‘What did you do?’ John asked,

‘I called the best rehab centre in England and had him sectioned immediately’ Mycroft met John’s stare ‘and I kept him there’

‘How did he react?’ John replied quietly,

‘He sobbed and screamed, called me every name under the sun. Threatened me, threatened the doctors, tried to bribe people, tried to escape’ Mycroft smiled softly ‘but eventually, he understood what I was trying to do’

‘Did it work?’ John whispered,

‘For a while’ Mycroft admitted ‘he had regular therapy and slowly built up his strength. We transferred him to another university and took out a restraining order against Victor but by then it was too late’

‘His eating disorder came back?’ the doctor asked,

Mycroft sighed ‘One night, me and him were in the library together. We hadn’t had a proper heart to heart in a long, long time but something changed that night; Sherlock decided he wanted to talk and talk he did. He told me how Victor would reward his weight loss, whenever Sherlock lost 6 pounds, Victor would prepare a batch of cocaine and inject it into Sherlock’

John gasped and closed his eyes in shock,

‘And whenever Sherlock gained, Victor would punish him…severely’ Mycroft grimaced ‘not just emotionally with vile words and barbed comments, but physically and occasionally… sexually’

‘Fuck’ John spat, almost retching with horror.

‘Sherlock sees weight gain as something to be stopped due to his experience with Victor. My brother turned to drugs to try to control something in his life but since giving that up, he has worked on cases. Pushing his body to the limits through lack of food and sleep’ Mycroft admitted ‘He doesn’t see it as a disorder. He sees it as a choice’

‘How can I help him?’ John pleaded ‘please, tell me’

‘My brother…’ Mycroft began before staring into John’s eyes and reading something ‘Is romantically interested in you Dr Watson. I don’t expect you to return the emotion but please, don’t lead him on. Don’t give him false hope’

‘Sherlock… is interested in me?’ John whispered,

‘Extremely. Hence why he is controlling his diet once more, he wants you to see him as a premium specimen for a relationship and the only way he has known this in the past is Victor’s doing’ Mycroft spoke softly ‘If you feel the same way, you need to change his way of thinking’

John nodded and rubbed his neck once more ‘Thank you Mycroft’

‘Take care, Dr Watson. I’m only a phone call away’ Mycroft smiled as he watched John climb from the car and out into the street.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John moved to the counter top and began slicing an apple into small portions; putting it on a plate he returned to sit opposite Sherlock at the table and placed the plate between them, moving a slice into his mouth and chewing
> 
> ‘Have a slice,’ John insisted.
> 
> ‘I-I had something earlier,’ Sherlock lied,
> 
> John narrowed his eyes and blinked ‘Sherlock, I’m a doctor.’
> 
> ‘I’m aware of that.’ Sherlock quipped,
> 
> ‘So I can tell when somebody hasn’t eaten.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we go any further I would like to explain that I have little experience with diagnosed eating disorders, most of this I'm making up or googling so if I offend to get anything wrong; it wasn't my intention. Please let me know of any discrepancies and I shall change it immediately.
> 
> TW Cutting self-harm.

Sherlock was beginning to feel the first tendrils of dizziness and lethargy from lack of food; his mind spun wildly as he attempted to focus on the experiment below. He heard the familiar closing of the front door and listened for footsteps which proved it was John.

The detective watched his best friend enter the flat and stared at him angrily;

‘How is my brother?’ he spat,

‘His usual kidnappy self’ John lied, turning his back to Sherlock and putting away the milk which he collected on the way home ‘He’s worried about you’

‘Is he’ Sherlock said dispassionately, scanning John’s features for any tell-tale signs.

John moved to the counter top and began slicing an apple into small portions; putting it on a plate he returned to sit opposite Sherlock at the table and placed the plate between them, moving a slice into his mouth and chewing

‘Have a slice’ John insisted,

‘I-I had something earlier’ Sherlock lied,

John narrowed his eyes and blinked ‘Sherlock, I’m a doctor’

‘I’m aware of that’ Sherlock quipped,

‘So I can tell when somebody hasn’t eaten’

Sherlock swallowed hard and picked up a slice of apple; his stomach rolled and his brain screamed not to do it as he brought it to his mouth and nibbled cautiously.

John’s smile immediately stopped his body complaining; the large and genuine grin of a happy John made a bolt of warmth shoot through Sherlock’s veins as he nibbled and chewed on the apple slice.

‘So, what are your plans for today?’ John asked, taking another slice and chewing it.

Sherlock looked at John suspiciously and helped himself to another slice as he answered ‘Thought I would complete this experiment but it’s dull.’

‘We could watch a film if you like?’ John suggested

‘Er- Okay’ the younger man replied,

‘Eat another two slices of apple first though?’ John asked with a grin ‘and I’ll even let you choose the film,’

Two apple slices seemed like too much but Sherlock wanted to see John’s smile once more; he quickly forced himself to relax and ate the food which John had provided, watching as John grinned and smiled directly at him.

‘Thank you,’ the doctor whispered, stretching his hand and rubbing his thumb over the soft skin of Sherlock’s hand.

The younger man’s breathing became ragged as he felt John touching him; it wasn’t an overtly sexual touch. More reassuring than intimate but it meant everything in the world to Sherlock.

‘Let’s get a film on then,’ John smiled

* * *

 

The two men sat on the sofa together watching a Horror film; both men had to be careful regarding their choices of film. John’s PTSD stopped anything with explosions or graphic war scenes whereas Sherlock had his own rules which he kept private, choosing to avoid a film rather than explain them to his best friend,

The silence of the flat was broken by John clearing his throat; an immediate precursor to an awkward conversation.

‘Sherlock...’ John began cautiously,

‘I’m sorry about the mouse in the airing cupboard,’ Sherlock whispered,

‘No that’s not… _wait what?’_ John gasped ‘why is there a mouse in the airing cupboard?’

‘Oh erm… experiment,’ Sherlock replied with a soft smile, turning his body to look at his best friend once more ‘What’s wrong?’

‘This is difficult for me,’ John admitted with a shaky exhale ‘I’m not sure how to go about talking about it.’

‘Ooookay’ Sherlock drawled,

‘I’m beginning to think that I may have romantic feelings for you...’ John mumbled, his eyes refusing to stay on Sherlock’s face as it reddened ‘and I don’t know how you would feel.’

Sherlock looked at his friend with narrowed eyes ‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘What?’ John asked ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘You’ve never mentioned it before; you’ve never hinted at an attraction in fact rather the opposite. You insist you’re not gay and parade vacuous women into the flat at every opportunity. Why have you decided today that you’re interested?’ Sherlock babbled, his eyes attempting to read John.

‘I… I just… fuck,’ John stumbled ‘I realised earlier.’

‘Mycroft’ Sherlock growled ‘You spoke to him and he filled your head with some ridiculous notion. Did he offer to pay you?’

‘What? No!’ John shouted, angry that his words had been twisted ‘Yes, I saw Mycroft and then when I came home I realised that we’ve been avoiding the truth for a long time.’

‘Victor’ Sherlock said, watching John’s eyes grow wide and the doctor try to hide the recognition of the name.

Sherlock stood to his full height and swept from the living room; grabbing his coat he was out of the door before John could catch up.

* * *

 

Sherlock had known that it was a trick; it would have had to have been in order for John _‘absolutely and definitely not gay’_ Watson to express romantic feelings for the detective. Mycroft had obviously used his knowledge of Sherlock’s affections against him.

Sherlock walked around the corner to his other, other house which he had kept in case of emergency. He often let his homeless network stay in his empty properties but this one was his own private getaway. He opened the doors and walked through to the living room where he sat on the comfortable chair in his thinking position, looking up at the framed photos on the wall.

He didn’t come here often; he realised that it wasn’t healthy or normal but occasionally he needed to be reminded of the one person he had felt close to. The photo showed a much younger and thinner Sherlock, his black curls slightly longer than he kept them now and in perfect spirals as he looked up into the camera with a big smile. Victor was beside him on the bed, their faces were slightly flushed from their bout of sexual activity immediately before the photograph, Sherlock remembered the moment perfectly;

Victor had forced Sherlock onto the scales to check he hadn’t gained; when the boys had seen that Sherlock had had a 3 pound gain, Sherlock’s stomach immediately clenched with fear as Victor’s eyes had set into one of hardness and disappointment.

‘I could tell.’ Victor sneered ‘What have you eaten?’

‘Not… not much’ Sherlock whimpered, his stomach flipping nervously ‘J-Just toast, apple juice and a banana’

‘Did you have butter?’ Victor asked, watching as Sherlock nodded in defeat ‘are you even trying? Do you want me to be embarrassed when we go outside?’

‘No. I’m sorry,’ Sherlock whispered ‘I’ll do better.’

Victor ran his fingers up and down Sherlock’s exposed stomach; each rib was clearly visible, the prominent hipbones standing out proudly from pale skin as Victor nipped a pinch of skin and pulled hard ‘Perhaps you need to exercise more?’

Sherlock bit his lip and nodded sadly, he knew what was coming next.

‘Bedroom.’ Victor ordered.

Their sex life was always the same; Sherlock always bottomed and Victor never prepared Sherlock or allowed the man to prepare himself more than was strictly necessary to avoid tearing. Sherlock would be held down to the mattress by Victor gripping the younger boy’s neck and pushing his head into the pillow as he rammed himself into Sherlock’s body quickly, not giving the boy time to react or respond to the intrusion. Victor would thrust hard and fast until he climaxed before pulling out and ordering Sherlock to clean him orally; Sherlock never orgasmed during their sessions and was left to deal with the clean-up himself, sometimes being forced to crawl to the bathroom on all fours.

That night was different; Victor grabbed his camera and held it above their heads,

‘You need to smile like you mean it.’ he warned Sherlock before watching the boy pull his lips into a grin as he clicked the button.

* * *

 

Sherlock looked at the picture and grimaced. As an adult he could understand that Victor was abusive; he was a vile, horrible man who used Sherlock’s naivety for his own sadistic and sexual pleasure whilst making Sherlock slowly shrivel from the inside.

The detective walked around their once shared flat stopping in each room and sighing as ghosts of memories passed through him; the whipping he had taken after meeting Mycroft for coffee and having cream in his drink. Their bedroom where their painful sexual encounters happened; Sherlock had never understood why people found sex such a pleasurable act. He had never enjoyed a single minute of his lovemaking.

Sherlock stopped in the bathroom and looked over at the place he had spent most of his university days; the décor was exactly the same as when the pair had shared it and Sherlock could have sworn he saw a shadow of his former self, sitting with his back to the bathtub and hugging the toilet bowl as he voided his stomach, again and again, to ensure that Victor was happy.

Victor was never happy.

Sherlock moved to the bathroom cabinet and pulled out the bag he kept for times like these; opening the zip he took out the straight blade razor and watched the light reflect from the silver before unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up until they reached his upper arm. Holding the blade against his skin he inhaled deeply before pulling it along, feeling the satisfying ripping of his skin as crimson blood rushed to the surface and dripped into the white porcelain sink below. Sherlock grimaced and did another, followed by a third; the pressure suddenly evaporating from his body as the tension escaped his too tight skin and dissolved into the air around him. Sherlock dropped the razor into the sink and pulled out the rolls of bandages which he kept stocked in his bag. One handed, he wrapped his wounds and pulled down his sleeve before moving to sterilize the razor and replace it in its hiding place.

* * *

 

John felt like he had been pacing for days; he walked the length of the living room and kitchen before turning and repeating the journey. His mind was in a whirl as he attempted to assess the damage he had done to Sherlock’s mentality and their friendship; he was about to call Lestrade when he heard the door open and Sherlock’s footsteps on the stairs.

Sherlock stumbled at the top of the stairs and reached for the wall but it was too late and he crumpled to the floor in a heap leaving John running towards him to help.

‘Sherlock talk to me’ John insisted, his fingers rubbing over his cheeks and opening the detective’s eyelids to check his pupils.

‘John’ Sherlock mumbled,

‘Sod this’ John grumbled, lifting Sherlock easily and laying him on the sofa before walking to the kitchen and heating up the water in the kettle. He spooned three sugars into a cup and added the warm water before stirring and returning back to Sherlock’s side,

‘Drink this’ John insisted, holding the mug to Sherlock’s lips.

Sherlock pursed his lips and refused entry to the liquid,

‘Okay’ John warned, his voice lower ‘Drink this or I swear I’ll put a tube in your nose and feed you’

Sherlock blinked owlishly as he looked at his best friend; realising the doctor wasn’t joking Sherlock opened his lips and drank the syrupy liquid.

‘You’re hot, let’s get your coat off’ John soothed when the liquid was all gone

‘John I’ Sherlock started as John quickly pulled off the jacket and looked down at Sherlock’s arm

‘Is that blood?’

Sherlock blushed and looked away as John unbuttoned the sleeve of the blood-soaked shirt and lifted it to reveal the crimson stained bandage beneath. John looked at Sherlock’s red cheeks and stood to pick up his medical kit and returned to sit at Sherlock’s feet as he cut away the bandages and looked down at the still oozing cuts below.

‘Fucking hell Sherlock’ John swore ‘This one needs stitches’

‘I didn’t realise… until too late’ Sherlock mumbled, his head woozy once more from loss of blood and lack of food.

John stroked his friend’s curls softly before putting on latex gloves ‘I’ll look after you’


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late, was my stepson's birthday party and I felt a bit bad sneaking off to post a story where the characters eventually end up bumming one another... so yeh.

John closed and cleaned the wounds on Sherlock’s arm before re-wrapping it with a tighter, better bandage; Sherlock was dozing on the sofa now, his head hanging awkwardly forward onto his chest as he fought against the lethargy of hunger, lack of sleep and blood loss.

‘Come on sleepy head’ John whispered ‘do you think you could eat something for me?’

Sherlock shook his head and slouched further into his seat, making himself as small as possible.

‘Okay,’ John soothed ‘its okay Sherlock. I’m going to help you get better’

‘I’m fine’ Sherlock whispered, voice tense with emotion.

‘No. You’re not’ John sighed ‘I know a little bit about Victor yes, but not enough to have an opinion so I would like to hear it from you. Whenever you’re ready’

‘Not tonight’ Sherlock replied cautiously ‘please. Not tonight’

‘Okay’ John whispered, his hand lingering on Sherlock’s hand ‘Can you at least drink some more water? Or tea? You lost some blood back there’

Sherlock nodded and watched John jog to the kitchen and fill up a large glass with chilled water from the fridge, returning and handing it to Sherlock who sipped it slowly.

‘Shall we watch Doctor Who?’ John smiled.

* * *

 

John awoke to the strange sensation of somebody sitting at the end of his bed; his heart pounded quicker until he recognised the brown curls and straight-backed man sitting silently.

‘We can talk now’ Sherlock whispered,

‘Um okay,’ John replied groggily, rubbing his hands in his eyes ‘Can I have a wee first?’

Sherlock smiled and nodded; John climbed from his bed in his undies and walked to the bathroom before stopping in the bedroom doorway and looking at Sherlock who had climbed into the bedding.

‘Cold’ the detective blushed.

John smiled as he climbed into his still warm bed and snuggle close to his friend; the pair sat silently and awkwardly until Sherlock sighed and began to speak.

‘Victor was nice at first’ he sighed ‘he used to tell me I was special and that I would be gorgeous if I lost a little bit of weight’

John gasped and clenched his fist,

‘I wanted so much to please him; I wanted to experience love and affection’ Sherlock whispered sadly ‘so I did what he told me. I lost the weight; I stopped eating, stopped seeing my family and didn’t fight when he offered me cocaine’

‘You were young’ John whispered,

‘I was in love’ Sherlock scoffed ‘ridiculous. Mycroft always told me that caring is not an advantage but I didn’t listen. I was so lonely at university’

‘I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry that there wasn’t somebody better for you’ John whispered, tears in his eyes.

‘Did Mycroft tell you about the… physical side?’ Sherlock asked shyly,

‘Not much’ John admitted ‘just that it was a punishment’

Sherlock shrugged and relaxed back onto the pillows of John’s bed ‘after that I avoided relationships and sexual experimentation. I hadn’t even felt close or interested in anybody almost over two decades’

‘Yesterday. What I said’ John started ‘I wasn’t lying; I wasn’t trying to trick you. I genuinely do feel something between us more than simple friendship’

‘I know. I think I reacted badly. I’m sorry John’ Sherlock replied sadly

‘If it’s something you would be interested in pursuing… we could take it slowly’ John smiled ‘but Sherlock, you have to stop starving yourself, and the cutting isn’t helping. If Mycroft knew he would try to put you back into rehab and I don’t want you to leave me’

Sherlock blinked away tears ‘I’m afraid’

‘Don’t be’ John smiled ‘we’ve faced serial killers, kidnappers, terrorists… even a golem… a sandwich is nothing to be afraid of’

Sherlock huffed out a laugh and nodded ‘I’ll try’

‘Plus, you have your trusty blogger to keep you safe’ John said taking Sherlock’s hand and stroking the soft skin with his thumb.

‘Can I… stay here for a bit?’ Sherlock asked cautiously, John’s bed was warm and smelt of the doctor.

‘Of course’ John smiled snuggling further down ‘Did you sleep last night?’

Sherlock shook his head; he had spent the night on the sofa looking through his mind palace and organising his thoughts.

‘Then you should nap here with me. I probably won’t sleep anymore but I’ll read if you like?’ John asked,

Sherlock curled onto his side and rested his hand over John’s heart; an intimate gesture which startled John slightly and caused Sherlock to pull away as though he’d been burned. John returned Sherlock’s hand and placed his smaller one over the top, keeping them joined and together whilst the younger man counted the heartbeats and fell asleep. His soft snores making John smile as the doctor looked down at his best friend looking peaceful.

* * *

 

Three hours later Sherlock awoke and stretched; he felt warm and realised that he had somebody wrapped around his back. Turning his head he saw that John had fallen asleep and curled up around him, the blonde haired head resting between Sherlock’s shoulder blades and John’s arms wrapped around Sherlock in an octopus hug.

A shiver of panic ran up Sherlock’s spine as he felt himself so close to another person; his body reacting in a traitorously urgent way as his cock stiffened and pressed against his pyjama bottoms. He took a few deep breaths and urged himself to calm,

‘Mmmmm did I fall asleep?’ John mumbled from behind, his hands resting over Sherlock’s stomach.

The detective froze in terror as John stroked the flat plane of his tummy; John was muttering something inane which Sherlock wasn’t hearing. He could only hear the whoosh of his heartbeat as he waited for John’s comments about his weight gain.

‘Shall we go to the park today?’ John asked, ‘It’s quite nice out’

‘Um... yes… whatever’ Sherlock mumbled

‘Sherlock?’ John said, a note of concern in his voice ‘everything alright?’

‘Y-Yes, why wouldn’t it be?’ Sherlock attempted to sound nonchalant but ended up sounding small and desperate.

‘Okay, out of your head. Tell me what you’re thinking’ John insisted ‘No more secret thoughts between us’

Sherlock blinked in confusion ‘you want to know all of my thoughts? Because I have a lot of thoughts, hundreds of them, thousands even. It would be a full-time job trying to keep up’

John smiled against the warmth of Sherlock’s skin and shook his head ‘Okay, new rule. You don’t have to tell me _all_ thoughts, only ones where you begin to panic’

Sherlock considered the rule for a moment before nodding;

‘So, why are you panicking?’ John whispered, his thumb tracing around and around Sherlock’s navel.

‘I gained’ Sherlock replied sadly ‘four pounds’

‘I see’ John said his voice soft and trusting ‘why are you upset?’

‘I… I don’t want you to be embarrassed when we go out’ Sherlock mumbled bashfully.

John blinked once, twice and then sat up to look down at Sherlock’s pale face ‘are you serious?’

Sherlock looked confused but nodded,

‘Sherlock, have you seen yourself? You’re fucking gorgeous. I could never be embarrassed by you’ John soothed

‘Victor always said that people would think he was a chubby chaser. That he wanted to be with a fat slob’ Sherlock whispered with teary eyes,

‘Victor is a fucking idiot’ John spat ‘Sorry Sherlock, I know you loved him but my goodness he was awful’

Sherlock’s stomach rumbled under John’s fingers causing the detective to squeak a mew of disappointment as John rubbed over his belly.

‘Do you feel up for some breakfast?’ John asked ‘As much or as little as you like, but just something please’

Sherlock nodded and attempted to move only to be pulled back to the bed by small grabby arms who pulled the man into John’s grasp ‘Sherlock, you’re doing so well already’ John grinned, wide and genuine and enough to make Sherlock’s heart flip ‘I’m so proud of you’

Sherlock blushed and looked down at John’s lips and up to his eyes once more ‘John, may I kiss you?’

John nodded softly and ran his fingers through Sherlock’s curls before their lips met in a soft and tentative kiss. It was chaste, almost pure as Sherlock held his lips against his best friends and held them there. John smiled against Sherlock and opened his lips slightly in order for them to deepen the kiss,

It was obvious that Sherlock had extremely limited experience with intimacy which didn’t surprise John; he couldn’t imagine that Victor spent much time kissing and caressing his lover with the dedication he deserved. John refused to think of the vile man during his first kiss with Sherlock and cleared his mind as he set about teaching the detective all of his favourite tricks, flicking his tongue along Sherlock’s bottom lip and caressing his palate. Sherlock moaned and whimpered, his hands grabbing onto John’s shoulders desperately as John maintained a steady rhythm.

Pulling away; John saw Sherlock flushed and desperate for the first time. His cheeks rouged with pink glow and his eyes almost black with lust as the younger man panted and gasped for air.

‘Okay?’ John smiled,

‘Wow’ Sherlock whispered ‘Extraordinary’

‘Thank you’ John blushed before kissing Sherlock’s forehead ‘Now, about breakfast’

* * *

 

John made toast and left it steaming on a plate in the middle of the kitchen table as he brewed the tea; he was happy to see that Sherlock had taken a slice and was slowly beginning to tear the bread into strips, nibbling it slowly.

‘Are you eating it dry?’ John attempted Sherlock’s voice shouting ‘boring!’ before giggling,

‘I suppose it’s rather dull’ Sherlock blushed ‘what do people normally have on toast?’

‘Jam’ John mumbled as he walked around the kitchen and collected a selection of jams, marmalades and the butter from the fridge ‘would you like to try?’

‘I don’t… I don’t know’ Sherlock admitted nervously.

‘Okay, how about we cut a strip of the toast into thirds and put a bit of each on there? That way you can taste it but it’s not overloaded?’ John suggested,

‘W-what if I don’t like it?’ Sherlock asked,

‘I’ll eat it’ John shrugged ‘or we’ll bin it. Or feed it to the birds. Which would you prefer?’

Sherlock wasn’t sure so set about scientifically measuring and cutting the strip into precise thirds. He thanked John for the knife which was given to him and smeared the colourful jam and marmalade on two before adding butter to a third.

‘Could you not watch?’ Sherlock asked nervously.

‘I need to have a shower anyway’ John shrugged ‘So you just eat what you can and leave what you don’t like’

‘W-What if I decide to hide the bread and lie? Tell you I’ve eaten it?’ Sherlock asked

John thought for a moment before moving behind Sherlock and resting his hands on his shoulders and his chin on the top of Sherlock’s curls ‘I trust you not to do that. You never have to lie to me or be secretive. I won’t shout, I won’t blame and I won’t force you’

Sherlock nodded his head; too afraid that he may burst into tears if he attempted to speak.

‘Right, off for a shower’ John mumbled into Sherlock’s hair as he pressed a kiss to the crown ‘Need to look presentable’

‘You always look nice John’ Sherlock blushed,

‘As do you.’ John replied as he turned away and walked to the shower.

* * *

 

Sherlock sat looking at the slices of food on his plate like they were poison; he was a grown man, he shouldn’t be afraid of toast yet the thought of putting it into his mouth was causing his breathing to hitch and his stomach to roll.

He started with the buttered toast first; he took a sniff and looked at it from all sides before bringing it to his lips and licking the crumbs. He nibbled the edges and finally took a bite, chewing the bread until it was mushy and able to swallow; Sherlock gulped it down and sat in silence as he felt the fattening spread go down his throat into his stomach. The feeling of guilt and self-hatred intensified as he imagined the calories getting stuck to his arteries but he calmed himself with the memory of John’s smile,

He took a sip of his tea before taking the jam covered toast and following the same ritual; he enjoyed the taste, it reminded him of the breakfasts at the manor when he used to smear sticky jam on everything he ate. His mummy always joked that she could find him anywhere by following the jam trails. Sherlock swallowed and smiled at the memory of his mummy’s happiness before lifting the marmalade and putting it straight into his mouth and chewing.

When John returned, Sherlock had not only eaten the three smaller pieces; he had managed half of a second slice slathered in jam. John’s stomach flipped with happiness as he looked down at Sherlock and saw him eating,

John moved to press a kiss onto Sherlock’s lips tasting a mixture of Jam and tea as he passed by to his own room ‘You did very well’

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘We should go away’ Sherlock insisted hastily ‘on a holiday’
> 
> John lifted his eyebrow in surprise before nodding ‘where would you like to go?’
> 
> Sherlock hadn’t thought that far ahead; his brain wasn’t participating in the conversation and he found himself floundering ‘erm… I don’t know’
> 
> John chuckled and pulled Sherlock tighter to him ‘Home or abroad?’
> 
> ‘Home’ Sherlock insisted ‘If there is a case, I need to get straight back’

Sherlock climbed into the shower and washed himself quickly; the water flushed against his wounds and made him hiss and suck in a breath at the painful feeling. He hated that he was weak to his temptations; the urge to cut had always been stronger than the urge to use cocaine or even to purge. He felt a certain calm whenever he cut, watching the first ruby red droplets rise to the surface and leak out over pale skin. Looking down at the neat and pretty stitches which now closed his wound made his stomach ache; John must be so disappointed in him for being weak and pathetic. The doctor had insisted that Sherlock try his hardest not to cut or starve himself anymore as John was afraid that Mycroft would have him sent off to rehab again and John would be alone. The thought of John miserable and alone was enough to make Sherlock silently promise that he would try.

He stepped out of the shower and walked to his bedroom; before dressing in his usual finery and exiting into the kitchen where John was waiting dressed in his usual dowdy jumper. Sherlock smiled and cleared his throat to show John he was ready,

‘Shall we go then?’ John smiled, walking to grab his coat and exit the flat with a grin as they walked towards the park.

The two men chatted aimlessly as they walked; Sherlock breathed in the fresh air feeling it fill his lungs. He was almost giddy with happiness when John moved to entwine their arms, walking with them linked as they chatted without care. Sherlock looked around at passers-by realising that nobody cared; nobody batted an eye at the two men who walked beside them.

‘We should go away’ Sherlock insisted hastily ‘on a holiday’

John lifted his eyebrow in surprise before nodding ‘where would you like to go?’

Sherlock hadn’t thought that far ahead; his brain wasn’t participating in the conversation and he found himself floundering ‘erm… I don’t know’

John chuckled and pulled Sherlock tighter to him ‘Home or abroad?’

‘Home’ Sherlock insisted ‘If there is a case, I need to get straight back’

‘Okay,’ John smiled ‘what would you like to do on our first holiday?’

Sherlock blushed at John’s use of the words ‘our first’ and stumbled over his words once more ‘I – I don’t know’

‘I like the beach. I’ve always enjoyed collecting fossils’ John admitted ‘I bet you know everything about fossils’

‘Not much’ Sherlock admitted ‘a little’

‘Plus, there’s nothing better than fish and chips on the beach. Fighting the seagulls’ John grinned before realising what he had said ‘Oh shit, sorry Sherlock. You wouldn’t have to eat fish and chips’

Sherlock waved away John’s concern ‘its okay John. You don’t have to change your personality because you know about my… issues. What else would you like to do?’

‘Did you ever go to the arcades when you were younger? The 2p machines and the slots?’ John grinned ‘My Nanna Watson used to take us all of the time; she’d give us a pound and let us change it into 2p’s and see what we could win’

Sherlock shook his head ‘We never did much as a family. Can you imagine how difficult it would be to cope with both me and Mycroft in a social environment?’ he laughed heartily ‘My poor parents’

‘So, we need to go on a holiday to the beach with fossils, where I can get fish and chips and which also has an arcade’ John smiled ‘Within a few hours of London so that if a case comes up, we can help’

‘Exactly’ Sherlock nodded ‘and preferably with some history’

‘I’ll get on it’ John smiled ‘Let’s go back to the flat, I’m already excited’

* * *

 

Sherlock finished his mouse experiment whilst John browsed the internet for suitable places to holiday. He immediately stopped as he reached a small seaside town which included all of the things they had specified including a grisly link to Dracula. John searched through hotels and booked a room for a long weekend before looking behind him at Sherlock who was sitting peering through his goggles at a mouse’s eye;

‘We leave tomorrow’

‘That was quick’ Sherlock gasped ‘How… what… If’

John moved from his seat and moved to stand beside his best friend ‘Panic thought?’

Sherlock nodded and inhaled ‘what if we get a case?’

‘Then we’ll come back. It’s not a problem’ John replied,

‘What if I don’t like it?’ Sherlock whispered,

‘Then we’ll come back’ John smiled,

Sherlock sat silent for a moment before whispering ‘Do you want to have sex with me, is this a sex holiday?’

John frowned and shook his head ‘That’s not what this holiday is about Sherlock. It’s about us, spending time together away from London and in a new and exciting area. It’s just a bit of travelling’

The doctor pressed a soft kiss to Sherlock’s curls before dipping down and kissing his bow lips too, his breathing steaming up Sherlock’s goggles as he got closer ‘Do you want some help to pack?’

Sherlock shrugged and blushed as he removed his goggles ‘I should be okay’

John nodded and squeaked with excitement as he moved quickly to his stairs ‘We’re going on an adventure!’

‘Bloody hobbit’ Sherlock muttered playfully under his breath ‘Bilbo! Make me tea before you rush off’

‘Make it yourself, you bloody dragon’ John laughed in reply as his footsteps trailed off into his bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here's the next chapter; includes Dracula, chips and seagulls :D
> 
> Whitby is amazing if you ever get around to visiting you definitely should! Especially during goth weekend. It's amazing. See the links:
> 
> http://www.visitwhitby.com/  
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whitby  
> http://www.draculaexperience.co.uk/
> 
> I may try to add photo's but I'm a techno noob so it might not work.

Sherlock and John had been seated in first class thanks to them helping the ticket inspector in a previous case; the men enjoyed the extra space and sat chatting easily as the greyness of London was transformed into an endless sea of green. Fields lined both sides of the carriage as they thundered up North, stopping only to change at another station.

‘It’s illogical that people need this many fields’ Sherlock grumbled as they were seated yet again on a second train.

‘It’s not illogical. They’re needed for animals and food’ John groaned, attempting to read his paper. Sherlock huffed and rolled his eyes as he took a swig of the coffee he had bought on the platform of the last station,

‘Are you hungry yet?’ John asked without looking up,

Sherlock stopped and narrowed his eyes at John before shaking his head ‘No’

‘I bought a snack bag of fruit’ John said, rummaging around in his satchel to pull out the slightly squashed plastic bag ‘I could eat so I’m going to open it and leave it on the top’

John opened the plastic and took out a handful of fruit before pulling the paper back over his eyes again; he feigned indifference but was listening for the tell-tale rustle which came moments later. Sherlock reached into the bag and pulled out a grape, popping it into his mouth as he swept his finger across his mobile phone.

John smiled and turned the page of his newspaper before moving his foot to rub up and down Sherlock’s lower calve. The detective froze before smiling and looking out of the window as they continued their journey.

An hour later and the train was pulling into Whitby station; John looked over at Sherlock who had fallen asleep, his legs curled up and his coat wrapped around him as he dozed gently against the train window.

‘We’re here’ John smiled, gently shaking Sherlock awake ‘Come on sleeping beauty’

Sherlock snapped awake and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he blushed ‘I’ll get the bags’

The walk from the station to the hotel took only minutes as the two men walked alongside the metal barriers keeping pedestrians from falling into the sea. Boats swayed gently as they were tied up against them with fishermen shouted loudly, advertising trips out to sea. Sherlock walked to the railing and looked out over the water; inhaling deeply as he took in the smell of sand and sea, of salt and life.

‘Come on’ John soothed ‘we can sightsee in a little bit’

The men walked past numerous sweet shops and fish and chip venders; the smells of frying batter making John hungry and Sherlock nauseous as they continued walking to their hotel. They checked in without hassle and were shown to the suite which was to be theirs for the weekend; a spacious and clean area which gave a lovely view of the harbour and the abbey which was situated on the cliffs above.

‘We have to go up there’ Sherlock pointed,

‘Absolutely. They say that’s where Bram Stoker said Dracula lived’ John replied using his fingers to indicate it was spooky.

Sherlock scoffed and put his suitcase onto the bed before returning back to the window; he stiffened as he felt John stand beside him and wrap an arm around his waist softly ‘Shall we go investigate Mr Holmes?’

Sherlock smiled and nodded, following John from the room and locking the door behind them as they walked into the town.

* * *

 

The town was small but quaint; the people who passed by were friendly and often said hello for no reason which confused Sherlock,

‘Why are they talking to us?’ Sherlock griped ‘I don’t know them’

‘They’re from Yorkshire’ John chuckled as though that would be reason enough.

‘I understand the location’ Sherlock scoffed ‘but why are they talking?’

‘It’s just a friendly thing. They all do it up here’ John smiled as another passer-by greeted them ‘It’s not like London’

The men walked up and down the first part of the high street which consisted mainly of fish restaurants and arcades which made John’s eyes light up with delight as the Mazak played from inside.

‘The proper shops are on the other side’ John said with a smile ‘we need to cross the bridge’

The pair turned back and walked past their hotel only to be met by a man dressed as Dracula who was scaring the children and posing for pictures with tourists. His fake accent slightly muffled by the plastic teeth which lined his mouth

‘I vont to suck your bluuud’ the man drawled, his cape pulled over one arm as he looked down at a small child who looked bewildered.

‘What is this?’ Sherlock asked confused,

‘It’s the world famous Dracula experience’ a woman said from behind the actor ‘half price with this coupon’

Sherlock’s eyes brightened and he looked over at John excitedly ‘John!’

‘Yes, yes’ John rolled his eyes ‘Come on then’

* * *

 

The ‘Dracula Experience’ was really a walk through story on the legend of Stoker’s vampire and the victims which had been inevitably drawn to the hypnotic power of the monster. The waxwork people were a bit old and tired looking, and the whole décor was camp and overly dramatic but Sherlock walked through with utter joy and bliss, shouting at John and dragging the doctor over to look at the poor Mina’s staked body as she lay in her coffin.

John’s giggling pulled Sherlock from his excited mindset ‘John?’

‘Oh my god Sherlock’ John cackled, his stomach aching from laughing

‘What? What is it?’ Sherlock asked looking at the display in which John was pointing and laughing.

‘It’s you!’ John howled,

‘What? I don’t understand’ Sherlock frowned,

The dummy which John was pointing at was a rather lacklustre and strange looking waxwork but it’s curly black hair, long dark coat and blue scarf gave it a slight look of the detective. John giggled childishly as he looked at Sherlock’s face,

‘It does not!’ Sherlock pouted,

‘It has the same hair and coat’ John quipped, giggling harder.

‘John. Stop this silliness!’ Sherlock complained before his face broke into a smile and he chuckled along with John ‘Watch this’

John stopped laughing and checked around to make sure that Sherlock wouldn’t be caught as he entered the scene and walked up to his wax counterpart. He lifted his phone and took a picture with the curly haired dummy before running back and tittering with John like a schoolgirl.

‘I might send it to Mycroft. Tell him I’ve found the long lost Holmes brother’ Sherlock sniggered

The rest of the walk was enjoyable as the men finished the tour and ended in the gift shop; Sherlock purchased a few items of memorabilia to take home including a ‘Suck me’ T-shirt he found hilarious. John smiled as he watched Sherlock pay for his purchases and chatted kindly with the young teen behind the counter who seemed genuinely friendly and happy to chat.

‘I think I like it here’ Sherlock admitted as he left with a carrier bag.

* * *

 

‘God I’m starving’ John complained as they walked past another chip shop

‘You should eat’ Sherlock insisted ‘I don’t mind’

‘We don’t have to sit inside’ John compromised ‘Let me grab some chips and we’ll carry on walking’

John rushed into the takeaway and paid for his chips before returning outside and walking whilst eating with a larger space between himself and Sherlock so that he didn’t force the detective to smell his food. The detective’s heart thudded slightly faster in adoration for his blogger for being so thoughtful as the pair continued to walk towards the shopping high street.

John struggled with his chips as he was nudged to the left and right by the other pedestrians walking down the small cobbled streets; he eventually gave up and pulled Sherlock to one side,

‘Can we sit down so I can eat?’ the doctor asked tiredly,

‘Course’ Sherlock smiled finding a small wooden bench which looked out over the small patch of sandy beach. He stood at the rails watching as each wave lapped onto the sand, Sherlock inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of salty ocean before a cry from John behind him had his heart pounding,

‘Oh my god!’ John shouted, his tone slightly elevated in shock,

‘What? What happened?’ Sherlock panicked, rushing over to John’s side.

‘The bastard!’ John laughed, ‘The absolute bastard’

‘Who?!’ Sherlock looked around for an attacker.

‘The seagull!’ John laughed ‘He stole my chip!’

Sherlock frowned and look down at John as though the man was insane ‘A seagull?’

‘Didn’t you see it? It was bloody massive! Swooped down and stole my chip from my fork’ John cackled

Sherlock turned his head and watched as a large seagull strutted towards them with no fear; stopping slightly in front of the tall detective and staring at him with dark eyes.

‘This is one brave bird’ Sherlock smiled as he edged closer to the seagull, watching as the bird didn’t move.

‘Protect me, Sherlock!’ John swooned with a laugh ‘protect me from the evil thing’

The seagull moved closer to both John and Sherlock who stared at it quizzically; neither man had experience of dealing with large birds except the pigeons which littered Trafalgar Square. The seagull flapped its large wings and took off into the sky circling momentarily before swooping back down and aiming for John’s chips. The doctor and detective began to move, dropping the chips behind them as they ran for the nearest shop in floods of giggles.

‘That. That was ridiculous’ John cackled, his face flushed and his laughter lines creased deeply

‘I want one’ Sherlock laughed ‘Imagine Anderson’s face when I set my seagull on him’

The two men started up the cobbled streets, ignoring the scuffle behind as other seagulls joined the main bully to finish John’s discarded lunch.

* * *

 

[Sherlock's dummy](https://www.travelblog.org/Photos/5257619)

[Look at these evil bastards. Seagull twats](http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Guardian/Pix/pictures/2013/3/8/1362749373429/A-man-feeds-seagulls-with-014.jpg)


	6. Mycroft's thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft had loved watching Sherlock grow up; despite the seven year age gap Sherlock seemed to love his brother more than anything else in the world. His first word was ‘Myc’ and when Sherlock learnt to walk; his brother’s bedroom was his favourite destination. The staff and the family would watch with a smile as the tiny curly haired boy toddled his way down long corridors until he reached Mycroft’s room where he would bang his fists against the door and shout ‘Mikeyyy’ at the top of his voice until his brother let him in. The two would sit together whilst Mycroft read stories or composed pieces on the piano and Sherlock would sit in absolute awe of his amazingly talented brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick chapter about Mycroft's thoughts on Victor, Sherlock and John.

Mycroft hadn’t wanted a baby brother; He wasn’t particularly fond of the older one he already had but when his mother and father had introduced him to the dark-haired, scrunched up ball of crying energy, Mycroft’s heart had melted slightly. Unknown to his parents, Mycroft had sworn to protect his baby brother with his life.

Mycroft had loved watching Sherlock grow up; despite the seven-year age gap Sherlock seemed to love his brother more than anything else in the world. His first word was ‘Myc’ and when Sherlock learnt to walk; his brother’s bedroom was his favourite destination. The staff and the family would watch with a smile as the tiny curly haired boy toddled his way down long corridors until he reached Mycroft’s room where he would bang his fists against the door and shout ‘Mikeyyy’ at the top of his voice until his brother let him in. The two would sit together whilst Mycroft read stories or composed pieces on the piano and Sherlock would sit in absolute awe of his amazingly talented brother.

When Sherlock was older; Mycroft introduced him to nature, to animals and plants. The pair would sit beneath the shade of the orchard and discuss anything from the solar system to bees; putting the world to rights and learning together. Mycroft eventually left for boarding school which left Sherlock bereft and lonely, excitedly waiting in the window for the car which signalled Mycroft’s return to the manor, usually with a gift.

Sherlock’s favourite gift had been a tiny red setter puppy which Mycroft had found lurking outside the halls of residence, looking for scraps in the bins. He had cared for the tiny puppy until it was time to return home when he had handed the care over to Sherlock. Mycroft couldn’t remember ever seeing Sherlock as happy and enraptured as he did that day when the tiny puppy licked his face and bit his nose softly.

Redbeard became Sherlock’s partner in crime whilst Mycroft was away; the boy and his pet would roam the woods and orchards looking for adventures before returning to the house for lunch. When Mycroft came home, Sherlock would curl up on his bed with Redbeard lying on the floor whilst they read together or Mycroft told him stories of boarding school, of deductions and body language.

Mycroft had never been so happy in his life as he was when he was curled up with his baby brother.

When Redbeard died, Sherlock became withdrawn and angry. He raved and ranted at Mycroft who had claimed that Redbeard had moved to live on a farm but Sherlock knew the truth, he had known that Redbeard was poorly for a while and Mr Holmes had had him put down. Sherlock knew that it was the kindest option but it didn’t hurt any less.

The brothers drifted apart as Sherlock grew older; Mycroft missed the younger boy who would rely on him for everything and often overstepped the mark of brotherly care resulting in Sherlock feeling watched over and stifled. When Sherlock moved away to University, Mycroft worried constantly but his job with the government had started to lead to bigger and better prospects; he was quickly climbing the ladder to the top and unfortunately missed the warning signs between Sherlock and Victor.

Something he would always regret and hate himself for.

The Christmas when Sherlock returned looking deathly ill was the last time Mycroft left his brother to his own devices. He quickly ensured that Sherlock was given a place in the country’s best rehab centre whilst he arranged for Victor’s removal from the flat and from Sherlock’s life.

Victor sadly and tragically died in a car accident a month later; the police investigated as to how a man who had no previous history of drink driving or speeding was suddenly dead, wrapped around a tree and decapitated whilst four times over the limit. With a word in the right direction from Mycroft, it was promptly written off as a tragic accident and forgotten. Sherlock didn’t know about Victor’s death, Mycroft never told him and by the time he was out of rehabilitation, all information on the death had been forgotten.

The flat was a harder decision; Mycroft had personally walked around the small flat with a look of absolute disdain as he looked at the kitchen cupboard. Each door had a padlock attached, as did the fridge and freezer leaving Sherlock only able to open one cupboard which housed cups and glasses and access to the sink. Mycroft’s blood boiled in his expensive suit as he walked through the flat and found traces of blood and semen which littered the place, homemade whips and bondage gear in the bedroom caused his stomach to roll as he imagined what his poor brother had been through. He immediately put the flat up for sale.

Sherlock bought the flat,

Mycroft angrily chastised his brother before relisting it. Sherlock bought it once more.

The politician tried to rent it out and Sherlock took on the tenancy under another name. The younger boy didn’t want to lose the only home he had ever had to himself,

It was only after an intervention from Mrs Hudson, a person of whom Sherlock and Mycroft had known for many years that the issue was resolved. Mrs Hudson offered Sherlock a room in her house where he could live, work and play the violin as often as he liked whilst she still got to mother and take good care of him. Mycroft gave in and allowed Sherlock to keep access to Victor’s flat so long as he moved in with Mrs H. Sherlock agreed, promptly moving in and starting to work as a consulting detective. He met Lestrade, worked hard, relapsed slightly with cocaine and was forced once more into rehab and then he met John.

Mycroft liked John,

He liked the tenacity of the smaller man; he was strong in mind, body and spirit and had proved to be a good example on Sherlock who was solving more cases than ever. John cared for Sherlock in a way which Sherlock had never experienced before and Mycroft reasoned that when the pair realised how much they loved one another, they would be the perfect couple.

Mycroft’s daydream was interrupted by the text tone of his mobile. He lifted up the screen and saw Sherlock’s name appear, opening the message he grinned at the photo of Sherlock and the dummy with the words ‘Our long-lost brother’. Mycroft sent back a short reply simply stating:

**Enjoy your holiday brother mine – MH**

He took a sip of his tea whilst he waited for the reply which came almost immediately,

**I am so far. Yorkshire is a strange place, people talk to you in the street. Most bizarre – SH**

Mycroft chuckled and rolled his eyes at the thought of Sherlock having to make conversation with ruddy-cheeked farmers. Anthea entered the room at that moment and tapped her watch ‘Foreign secretary’; Mycroft nodded and grabbed his briefcase and umbrella before leaving for his meeting.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock heard the sound of John brushing his teeth to hide the taste of fish and chips. We’re going to do kissing his brain supplied before the soft foot falls of John returning to the bed in his boxers and t-shirt.
> 
> ‘Is this ok?’ John asked nervously,
> 
> ‘I wasn’t expecting a negligée’ Sherlock quipped watching John blush,
> 
> ‘Arse’ John mumbled as he climbed into the bed to find Sherlock clad in only tight black boxer shorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I come baring smut! 
> 
> Hope you like it! Carries on immediately after the chapter before Mycroft's
> 
> Oh also, the 199 steps are exactly what you think... they are just concrete steps which lead to a churchyard on top of the cliff.

The pair fell into their hotel room exhausted from walking around the cobbled streets for hours; they hadn’t attempted the 199 steps to the Abbey yet, intending to do that the next day when they weren’t as tired. Sherlock flung his coat onto the chair and toed off his shoes before falling flat onto the bed, the pillows under his head as he exhaled and stretched,

‘The bed is lovely. You should join me’ he whispered saucily

John lifted an eyebrow and nodded ‘Let me clean myself up first’

Sherlock stretched lazily again before putting his arm behind his head and running the day through his mind once more; he had enjoyed the Dracula experience but walking around the shops, arm in arm like a proper couple was almost too much for his heart to bear. His stomach flipped with joy each time John pulled him to look into one of the quaint shop windows,

Sherlock heard the sound of John brushing his teeth _to hide the taste of fish and chips. We’re going to do kissing his brain supplied_ before the soft footfalls of John returning to the bed in his boxers and t-shirt.

‘Is this ok?’ John asked nervously,

‘I wasn’t expecting a negligée’ Sherlock quipped watching John blush,

‘Arse’ John mumbled as he climbed into the bed to find Sherlock clad in only tight black boxer shorts.

Sherlock’s face blazed red with a mix of fear and shame as John blinked down at the sight below,

‘You are beautiful’ John whispered, his voice full of emotion.

Sherlock shook his head and retreated into himself a little, perhaps this holiday wasn’t a good idea.

John felt Sherlock’s hesitation and anxiety and bent down to press a kiss on the dry, slightly trembling lips to soothe his best friend, Sherlock soon joined in until the two men were snogging passionately, their tongues sliding against one another in a perfect rhythm. Sherlock may have been inexperienced but he was a quick learner as he tangled his fingers in John’s hair and pulled the older man further down until their chests were touching softly,

‘P-Panic thought’ Sherlock whispered, pulling away from John’s lips.

‘Tell me’ John soothed,

‘I-I’m becoming aroused’ Sherlock replied with a blush,

‘That’s okay’ John smiled ‘I am too’

‘But… you said it wasn’t a sex holiday. What if I want to do the sex?’ Sherlock panicked

John huffed a laugh at Sherlock’s use of the term ‘the sex’ before smoothing down the wild curls on Sherlock’s head ‘Okay, would having rules make you feel better?’

Sherlock nodded in agreement, biting his bottom lip.

‘How about, Rule 1 is no planned sex’ John suggested ‘but if we feel like it, we can explore one another’

Sherlock thought for a moment before nodding and moving to kiss John again. Slower and lazier this time as they got closer and more intense,

‘Can I touch you?’ Sherlock asked, grateful when John nodded and pressed himself to his back to allow Sherlock the opportunity to sit up slightly and run his hands over John’s face and neck.

Sherlock helped John to remove his shirt, throwing it across the room as the detective ran his fingers up and down the exposed skin of John’s chest stopping at the scar which marred his shoulder. His long, dexterous fingers poked and prodded at the wound before he lowered his head and placed the softest, most gentle kiss that John had ever known directly onto the skin. The scar tissue left all feelings muted but the feeling of Sherlock kissing his skin burned into every nerve and vein running through his body.

‘I don’t know what to do’ Sherlock admitted in an embarrassed whisper,

‘Would you like me to show you?’ John soothed ‘let me pleasure you’

Sherlock blinked, his face confused ‘pleasure me?’

John nodded and kissed his best friend again, trying to put all of his love and adoration for the man into the simple gesture ‘Let me’

Sherlock tentatively nodded and bit his lower lip as John pulled back the duvet to expose Sherlock’s pale skin to the light. Sherlock gripped the bedding tightly in terror as he expected John to tell him that they’d made a mistake. That Sherlock was too ugly for John to love.

‘Wonderful’ John whispered

Sherlock blinked in confusion before closing his eyes as John began to kiss down his jawline and down his neck, Sherlock gasped and arched into the touch and John was worried that the detective might become too overstimulated too quickly.

‘This is what I like, you may not like the same things so tell me if you want me to stop or change anything’ John whispered, his nose nuzzling against Sherlock’s chin as he kissed and licked at the long throat beneath.

‘H-How will I know?’ Sherlock asked genuinely ‘that I don’t like it’

John’s heart broke into pieces as he looked down at the man below; he looked so young and innocent,

‘I’ll take care of you. I love you’ John insisted with a tear in his eye.

Sherlock gasped and nodded; biting his lower lip once more he groaned when John continued the journey down from neck to chest, along the clavicle and down the pectorals. John stopped at Sherlock’s nipples and smiled as he licked around one dusky pink areola, watching it tighten and harden whilst Sherlock arched up further and grabbed the bedding,

‘My god, you’re so responsive’ John grinned happily ‘you’re amazing’

Sherlock attempted to speak but found only garbled consonants leaving his mouth at the sensation of John locking his mouth around his left nipple and sucking gently, getting harder until he was nibbling and softly teasing the nubs with his teeth. John moved his hand to cup and roll the other nipple in his hand listening to the breathy whimpers and grunts escaping Sherlock’s lips.

The older man realised that moving too fast wouldn’t be a good idea for either of them; Sherlock had no experience in good sex at all and rushing into a sexual relationship would likely startle him. John moved to sit astride Sherlock’s legs until his boxer-clad arse was resting on Sherlock’s thin thighs,

‘Am I too heavy?’ John asked carefully watching Sherlock shake his head.

John pressed his hand to Sherlock’s crotch and stroked the heavy and full erection which was pushing against the fabric of his underwear; he slowed his hand as he felt Sherlock twitch and gasp beneath him.

‘Ok?’ John asked softly,

‘Y-Yes’ Sherlock mumbled, nodding his head frantically.

‘Can I take you out of your underwear?’ the doctor whispered watching Sherlock nod and bite his lip.

John opened the flies of Sherlock’s ridiculously expensive underwear and fished his hand inside to pull out the extremely hard and leaking cock; Sherlock gasped and flushed red as his hard-on was revealed to a lover for the first time in almost 20 years.

John was surprised at the size; it was above average in length and girth and uncut which caused the long foreskin to cup the leaking head with a little more to spare. His balls were drawn up tight and close to his body with desire which left John with the overwhelming need to stroke him, to caress and soothe the detective’s body until he was a trembling and sated mess.

The older man ran his fingers up and down the straining shaft; watching as beads of precum glittered on the tip before rolling down to be caught by Sherlock’s hairs. The detective groaned loudly, his voice syrup smooth and deep as he desperately arched into John’s touch, aching for more.

‘Please’ Sherlock whispered ‘Please’

John nodded and gripped tightly; his hand moving up and down in a steady rhythm as he moved the foreskin back and forth over the sensitive head. John watched as Sherlock closed his eyes tightly and began to pant, desperate and erotic whimpers echoing around their hotel room as John stroked him steadily, adding a flick of his wrist to the tip and causing Sherlock to become completely undone with a wail as the detective threw back his head and bucked his hips into John’s fist,

‘That’s it’ John soothed ‘Good boy, beautiful’

‘John’ Sherlock wailed ‘John something is happening, John’

‘Shhhh it’s okay’ John whispered, moving alongside the detective without removing his hand from the shaft ‘I’ve got you’

Sherlock’s hand scrabbled for something on the bed momentarily confusing John until he realised what the younger man was looking for. He entwined their fingers together as his other hand worked over Sherlock’s cock,

‘John’ Sherlock cried and then it was all over, his body tensing and shuddering as his climax washed over him. His cock twitched desperately as John stroked him before unloading a huge load over Sherlock’s chest, stomach and John’s fist; Sherlock gasped and shuddered, his eyes rolling back in his head as the afterglow of his first orgasm cloaked him.

John smiled and squeezed Sherlock’s fingers which were still entwined with his own ‘Are you ok?’

‘Hmfnn’ Sherlock attempted, his eyes still closed and a smile on his face.

‘I’ll go get a flannel’ John suggested as he removed his fingers from his lovers. Sherlock mewed with disappointment before relaxing further into the mattress and waiting for John to return.

He returned moments later with a warm wet cloth which he used to clean off Sherlock’s stomach and chest; he threw the cloth into the bathtub before climbing back into bed and tucking Sherlock’s cock back into the slightly damp pants.

‘How was it?’ John asked,

‘I can see why people kill over it’ the detective smiled without opening his eyes.

‘Impressive eh’ John grinned,

Sherlock nodded before opening his eyes ‘Wait, I didn’t… you didn’t…’

‘I can wait’ John insisted with a soft coo ‘you’re drained’

‘Won’t you be angry?’ Sherlock whispered ‘I can… suck you if you like’

John gasped and stroked a hand through Sherlock’s curls ‘You never have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’d never force you and I’d never be angry if you didn’t want to touch me. You know what would make me really happy?’

‘What?’ Sherlock whispered in response,

‘Cuddling with you, right now. I want to cuddle up close to you and fall asleep knowing that you’re happy and sated’ John blushed ‘Does that make me sound slushy and romantic?’

‘Yes’ Sherlock laughed ‘but that’s okay’

The two men slotted themselves into a comfortable position in which John laid on his back whilst Sherlock rested his head over John’s heart, listening to the comforting ‘whoosh whoosh’ noise of the heartbeat below.

‘I love you too’ Sherlock admitted realising he hadn’t said the endearment since John had mentioned it earlier.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attached the song I was listening to during the church bit.
> 
> I didn't intend to write the scene about John's grandma but it happened. As some of you know I lost my own Grandma at the beginning of the month so this is extremely personal and heartfelt. I miss her very much.

When John awoke, Sherlock was already up and showered. The detective sat at his laptop clicking away with the remains of a sandwich beside him; John decided not to make a fuss and stretched loudly, grinning when his joints popped loudly which brought Sherlock from his daze,

‘You ok?’ John whispered, his voice deeper and sleep rough.

‘Yes. I even ate a whole sandwich’ Sherlock grinned ‘See’

‘I saw that’ John nodded, standing up and kissing Sherlock’s head ‘What was it?’

‘Cheese and something. It was nice’ Sherlock shrugged ‘Would you like something? I can pop out’

‘I can wait’ John shrugged ‘Probably won’t be trying to eat fish and chips on the front again though’

They both smiled at the memory before Sherlock spoke again ‘what are we doing today?’

‘I thought we could go up the steps to the abbey’ John said, pulling out his mobile and checking for texts or calls.

‘Will your leg be okay?’ Sherlock asked,

‘Should be. Let’s find out’ John grinned ‘I also want to buy Mrs H a gift’

‘Let’s go’ Sherlock smiled in reply.

* * *

 

The 199 steps were hard work even for somebody as fit as John and Sherlock; the pair stopped midway to take photographs of the harbour which shone in the daylight before continuing their climb,

Upon reaching the top the two men walked around the medieval graveyard, looking at the worn tombstones and following the pathways until they reached the edge of the cliff where the land was slowly falling into the sea, taking with it graves and headstones. Sherlock took John’s hand tightly in his own and walked into the church which stood at the top, paying their fee and walking through the church silently, enjoying the atmosphere of peace and tranquillity.

‘I didn’t think churches would be your thing’ John smiled, his fingers entwined into Sherlock’s as they walked.

‘I dislike religion’ Sherlock shrugged ‘but the buildings and craftsmanship? It’s beautiful’

John nodded and allowed Sherlock to pull him into the main hall where the local choir were practising surrounded by tourists and worshippers. John’s heart fluttered as he heard the beautiful [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sgUxn7nzwMQ) washing over them. Sherlock stood silently still, his eyes focussed on the choir as his eyes watered with unknown feeling.

‘Okay?’ John whispered, squeezing their fingers together.

Sherlock bit his lip and nodded; he was feeling incredibly overwhelmed by the whole situation.

‘Can we go back to the room?’ Sherlock whispered, emotion crashing over him and leaving him trembling and scared.

‘Of course’ John insisted, turning and apologising to the people behind him as he helped Sherlock out of the building and back down the steps to the high street. The two men silently walked back to the hotel and let themselves into the room where Sherlock sat on the bed,

‘Tell me what’s wrong’ John soothed, kneeling in front of Sherlock and softly stroking his hands over Sherlock’s thighs.

‘I-I just’ Sherlock exhaled ‘I frightened myself’

‘How?’ John asked with his eyebrows drawn together.

‘I realised how much I love you’ Sherlock whispered ‘the song, the church, holding your hand. I got overwhelmed’

John felt the warmth spread through his body at Sherlock’s words before he attempted to calm his best friend and new lover ‘Why overwhelmed?’

‘I can’t be the person you want me to be’ Sherlock whispered ‘I can’t. I’m horrible and rude, arrogant and unable to process emotion. I have too much baggage’

John frowned and lifted Sherlock’s chin up to look into the younger man’s eyes ‘You are none of those things. We both have baggage and that’s our own issue but you help me with mine and I help you with yours. It’s not a romantic thing; it’s a human nature thing’

‘I… Can you leave me alone for a little while?’ Sherlock asked quietly ‘I need some time to think’

John bit his lip and nodded ‘Promise you won’t do anything silly whilst I’m gone?’

Sherlock shook his head ‘I can’t promise, but I’ll try’

John stood stiffly and grabbed his phone, putting it into his pocket ‘I have my phone, ring me if you need me’

Sherlock nodded and moved to lay on the bed in his thinking pose, leaving John to his own devices.

* * *

 

John walked along the seafront kicking at stones and shells; the wind had started to pick up and the cold sea breeze chilled John to the bone and made his shoulder ache. He walked back to the main promenade and walked into the nearest arcade, grabbing a plastic tub he quickly changed money into 2p’s and stood at the machines, pushing the copper into the slots and watching as it zigzagged its way down to the shelf where the other coins lay. The doctor sighed as he realised that it wasn’t as much fun to do this alone, without Sherlock and even without his granny or Harry to keep him company. He looked over at a family of four who were standing together with huge grins as the youngest boy of about six jumped up and down in joy at winning a stuffed toy.

John was instantly taken back to his own childhood; he remembered his Granny Watson picking them up in her old Morris Minor car, strapping them in and driving along the twisty roads to the seaside where she would park up and walk hand in hand with Harry and John. The trio would walk along the beach and pick up shells to collect, putting them inside Granny’s handbag to take home before taking off their shoes and socks and running down to the water’s edge, paddling and running away from each lapping wave. Granny Watson would stand guard; holding their shoes as they kicked water at one another and looked for crabs under rocks. When the two began to get cold, Granny would walk them back to the car and open the boot to allow them to sit on the edge whilst she walked back to the water’s edge to fill up an empty lemonade bottle to let them clean the sand from their feet before towelling them off and replacing their shoes.

The walk to the chip shop came next with one portion of chips between all three laid out on trays which they ate on their knees whilst they watched the fishing boats coming in and out, each would have a guess what fish the men had caught and Granny Watson always insisted they had been out catching whales and mermaids which made Harry and John giggle happily. After the chips were eaten and both children were happy and excited, they would walk to the arcades where they would be given a shiny £1 coin to change into coppers and play on the machines. Granny Watson would watch with a happy and joyful smile as her grandchildren played together, sharing their winnings and offering other children the chance to have a go at winning.

John blinked away tears as he remembered how brilliant his childhood with his Grandmother had been; he realised he was lucky to have had such a wonderful woman in his life and smiled over at the six-year-old boy before walking past and tapping the boy on the shoulder,

‘I have some spare tickets, would you like them?’ John asked with a grin.

‘Yes please!’ the boy shouted looking up at his parents

John smiled and handed the boy his long trail of yellow tickets before nodding at both parents and leaving the arcade. He walked to the nearest pub and ordered a drink and some food, sitting silently in the corner and eating whilst he wondered how Sherlock was.


	9. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You’ll never be lovable’ Victor’s voice spoke into his ear,
> 
> ‘That’s not true. John loves me’ Sherlock replied weakly,
> 
> ‘He pities you. You’re a freak of nature, a worthless husk of a man. You’ll never be anything more than a collection of orifices in which to stick his dick’
> 
> ‘He’s not like that. He’s not like you!’ Sherlock insisted angrily, hissing his anger through his teeth.
> 
> ‘You’ll see. He’ll tire of you soon enough’ Victor’s laugh echoed around Sherlock’s mind
> 
> ‘No he won’t. He loves me’ Sherlock whispered, no longer believing his own words.
> 
> ‘Nobody loves you. You can’t be loved’ Victor spat ‘You’re just a fat, ugly, freak’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Painful angst, comfort, smut, 
> 
> I cut this into two parts so this is part 1, tomorrow will be part 2.

_‘You’ll never be lovable’ Victor’s voice spoke into his ear,_

‘That’s not true. John loves me’ Sherlock replied weakly,

_‘He pities you. You’re a freak of nature, a worthless husk of a man. You’ll never be anything more than a collection of orifices in which to stick his dick’_

‘He’s not like that. He’s not like you!’ Sherlock insisted angrily, hissing his anger through his teeth.

_‘You’ll see. He’ll tire of you soon enough’ Victor’s laugh echoed around Sherlock’s mind_

‘No he won’t. He loves me’ Sherlock whispered, no longer believing his own words.

_‘Nobody loves you. You can’t be loved’ Victor spat ‘You’re just a fat, ugly, freak’_

Sherlock pulled his legs up to his chest and cried harder; he hated when Victor’s voice came to him. He always seemed to know the worst things to say in order to upset Sherlock, the detective whimpered pathetically and scratched absently at his still healing wounds on his arms breaking the skin and causing it to bleed onto his shirt.

Victor was right; there was no way that somebody like John could ever love him. John was wonderful, he was caring and charming and genuine; whereas Sherlock was rude and arrogant, he was unlovable.

Sherlock rushed to the bathroom and sat on the cold tiled floor beside the toilet basin; the urge to force his fingers down his throat stronger than ever as he listened to Victor cruelly berating him.

‘ _Do you think he’ll want to have sex with you?’ Victor spat ‘You’re grotesque, you’re vile and ugly’_

‘Shut up! Go away!’ Sherlock cried, his eyes streaming wet tears into his black tailored trousers.

_‘I stayed with you because you were convenient. You let me stick my dick wherever I wanted. You loved it, you were my cock whore. Filthy, dirty little slut’ Victor laughed_

‘ _Don’t listen to him Lockie’ Mycroft’s voice cut through the incessant chuckling of Victor_

 _‘_ He’s right’ Sherlock whimpered

‘ _No he isn’t, he’s a bloody fool’ Mycroft hissed angrily ‘You’re better than this Sherlock, better than him. You deserve to be with somebody who loves you and that person is Dr Watson’_

Mycroft’s voice had taken a soothing and soft tone; the same tone he used many years ago when Sherlock awoke from a bad dream and toddled to his brother’s bedroom concerned about monsters under his bed. Mycroft had soothed him softly, explaining that monsters weren’t real and that Sherlock was braver than any monster.

‘I’m scared’ Sherlock admitted to the silence of the bathroom, the sound of Victor’s laugh echoing around his brain.

‘ _Don’t be. Be angry, be furious but don’t be afraid. Don’t hurt your body to spite your memory. You have people who love and need you; me, Lestrade, Molly, Mrs Hudson and most of all John’ Mycroft spoke gently_

Sherlock was interrupted by the sound of John returning to the hotel room; he stood in the doorway to the bathroom and looked down at the broken and red faced man below.

‘Sherlock?’ John whispered, moving slowly until he was crouched beside his best friend.

Sherlock grabbed John’s neck and pulled him down; the younger man pushed his nose into the crease between John’s jaw and shoulder and inhaled shakily. John smelt of sea; of cold air, beer, food and copper coins.

‘I didn’t’ Sherlock whispered ‘I didn’t do it’

‘I know, I know’ John soothed, a hand resting on the back of Sherlock’s head to cup him closer ‘You were so good. Can you tell me what upset you?’

‘Victor was talking to me’ Sherlock admitted

John frowned and looked around the room before Sherlock tapped his temple ‘in here’

‘Oh’ John nodded in understanding ‘what was he saying’

‘That I was unlovable. That I was a freak and grotesque’ Sherlock replied

John shook his head and bit his lower lip ‘Can you stand? Let’s get you up’

Sherlock allowed John to help him to his feet and to be dragged into the main bedroom where John helped him sit in the chair looking out over the harbour, where passers-by walked unknowingly chattering and laughing with one another mere feet away.

John kicked off his shoes and coat; before sitting on the bed opposite Sherlock, watching his best friend silently brood.

‘John?’ Sherlock whispered eventually,

‘Yeah?’ John replied,

‘Are you my boyfriend?’

John pursed his lips and looked out of the window; he hadn’t had time to have a sexual identity crisis yet but so far, he was surprised at how little he wanted to panic or freak out over the newness of their relationship.

‘Would you like me to be?’ John asked,

‘I – I think so yes’ Sherlock admitted ‘but I don’t know how’

‘We’ll learn together, as I don’t know how to be a man’s boyfriend either’ John smiled

‘Can we—cuddle?’ Sherlock hesitated before being overcome by delight at John’s massive smile

‘Come here you softie’ John grinned, opening his arms and allowing Sherlock to climb onto the bed and rest his head against John’s shoulder.

Sherlock and John lay silently for a moment until Sherlock couldn’t take it anymore; his voice breaking through the tranquillity as he spoke,

‘John?’

‘Hmm?’ The doctor replied drowsily,

‘Do you… am I…’ Sherlock mumbled before inhaling ‘I need to know something’

‘Of course’ John sat up and looked down at Sherlock, maintaining eye contact as Sherlock searched for the right words.

‘Am I just a selection of orifices?’ Sherlock asked with a blush,

John frowned and looked confused ‘I don’t understand the question’

‘Victor—he said… he suggested that you were only with me for my erm…’ Sherlock trailed off.

‘Is that what you think?’ John asked shocked

‘No! I just… I don’t know what to think’ Sherlock began to tear up again ‘I have no idea what would make you want to be with me’

John thought for a moment before speaking;

‘When I met you, you intrigued me. I’d never met anybody like Sherlock Holmes’ John grinned ‘as we got to know one another you captivated me with your deductions. You like to think you don’t care but you do, I saw you when Moriarty was blowing people up. You genuinely cared for that old lady but you covered it with bluster. The same with Mrs Hudson, you act like she’s the biggest fussy old boot you’ve ever met but without her, you’d be devastated’

‘True’ Sherlock blushed,

‘Your brain is the reason I fell in love with you, why you’re my best friend and yes, occasionally I want to smother you in your sleep after you dissolve my slippers or leave maggots under my bed but I put up with it because the good outweighs the bad’ John smiled ‘when it comes down to sexuality, I don’t know what I want. I thought I was straight but obviously not because I see you and I have never been so attracted to somebody’ John blushed crimson.

‘So it’s not just about sex?’ Sherlock whispered,

‘I don’t know what sexual activity I am comfortable in doing with another man’ John admitted ‘the whole idea scares me but I want to at least try if you’re comfortable with it and if you’re not, then we never have to try. What we did last night was good for me’

‘It was great’ Sherlock blushed biting his bottom lip,

‘Then let’s use that as a base. Work from there. No orifices involved’ John chuckled watching Sherlock smile ‘deal?’

‘Deal’ Sherlock nodded.

‘Right. Well, what are your plans for tonight?’ John asked,

‘None. What about you?’ Sherlock replied.

‘I was hoping that you might let me take you out for dinner?’ John smiled bashfully ‘obviously if you’re not up to it we don’t have to go’

‘Let me get ready’ Sherlock replied with a small smile ‘I’ll try’

* * *

 

John jumped into the shower first; the hot water pattered over his head and relaxed his tired muscles as he ran his hands over his body in an attempt to freshen himself. His cock reacted to the stimulation and made itself known as it twitched and hardened between John’s thighs; the lack of orgasm the night before had caused his balls to ache slightly and he desperately wanted to pleasure himself, his thoughts were interrupted by Sherlock who walked into the bathroom to collect his hair mousse.

‘Oh’ Sherlock grinned ‘enjoying your shower?’

‘Shut up you git’ John blushed,

‘Can I… join you?’ Sherlock asked nervously,

John nodded and watched as Sherlock stripped from his clothing to climb in beside John. The two men stood under the warm spray and kissed seductively, their tongues meeting passionately as they ran their hands through each other’s hair and down the soft skin of shoulders, chests and backs.

‘You have a wonderful arse’ Sherlock whispered into John’s ear, nibbling and sucking at the lobe softly as he spoke.

‘Unnng’ John replied, unable to vocalise his pleasure.

Sherlock moved closer pressing his own erection against John’s as they moved together; thrusting minutely and gasping into one another’s lips,

‘Is-is this okay?’ Sherlock panted as he wrapped a hand around John’s shaft and his own, feeling the leaking precum mixing with the warm water to better lubricate each movement.

John should have felt overwhelmed; should have felt strange to have another man’s penis pressed against his own but he didn’t. He nodded as he thrust his tongue back into Sherlock’s mouth and tasted his lover completely; one hand joining Sherlock’s to wrap around their cocks whilst the other moved to Sherlock’s waist and held onto the pronounced hipbone beneath,

Sherlock was at a loss at how amazing the sensation was as John moved his cock against his own; their tips pressing against one another as they ground their hips. Their breathing increased with small pants and groans escaping as their climaxes began to build higher and higher, desperation and need forcing them to move harder and less choreographed as they writhed against each other.

‘Sherlock’ John warned ‘close’

‘Mmmmm’ Sherlock hummed, kissing along John’s neck and throat until he reached the join of neck and collarbone where he sucked a large purple bruise into the pale skin, marking John as his own and growling ‘mine’ under his breath.

John was undone at the small amount of pain and the thought of Sherlock marking him; his hips thrust once, twice and then he was coming with a deep and heady groan. His head thrown back in bliss as Sherlock continued to stroke him through his climax as hot strands of cum covered Sherlock’s lower stomach and pubic hair.

‘Oh John’ Sherlock moaned loudly ‘God’

John snapped back into action and moved his hand quicker and faster, his other hand moving to pinch Sherlock’s nipples as he sucked a matching bruise onto the detective’s neck. Sherlock was overcome with pleasure as he shuddered through an almost silent climax, a soft whimper escaping his lips as he slumped into John’s embrace with a grin.

John stroked the wet hair from Sherlock’s eyes and gave the younger man multiple soft kisses over his lips and face as the afterglow washed over them along with the shower water. The two men lazily kissed and hugged until the water began to grow cold and they had to climb from the tub.

‘I’d like all my showers to happen like that’ Sherlock admitted with a lusty grin,

‘I think we can arrange it’ John winked as he towel dried his hair, leaving his body exposed to Sherlock’s gaze.

  



	10. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Yes, it’s under Watson’ John replied, watching the girl skim across the page until she reached his booking
> 
> ‘Ah yes, if you’d follow me’ she smiled ‘I’m Sally’
> 
> ‘I’m John and this…’ John started before being cut off by Sally
> 
> ‘Sherlock Holmes. I know’ she smiled softly ‘I follow your blog. Didn’t imagine id see you somewhere like Whitby’
> 
> John grinned as he took his seat ‘You follow the blog?’
> 
> ‘Oh yes, never miss it’ Sally replied ‘and yours too Mr Holmes. I’m doing my chemistry degree so I enjoy your experiments a lot’
> 
> ‘Thank you’ Sherlock smiled gracefully ‘Glad to see some people have taste’
> 
> John tutted playfully and rolled his eyes ‘that’s about as gracious as he gets’

_Sherlock dressed in his usual well-tailored black suit and purple shirt whilst John wore his nicest jeans and black jumper; Sherlock styled his hair in the mirror as John flicked through restaurant listings on Sherlock’s laptop until finding one which he deemed suitable. John grabbed his wallet and phone and checked his reflection one last time before smiling at Sherlock and placing a soft hand on his boyfriend’s waist,_

‘Ready?’ John asked,

Sherlock nodded weakly and inhaled before following John out of the hotel and into the cool air of the seaside. The pair walked until they reached a small and extremely intimate Italian restaurant where John stopped outside, looking up at Sherlock for consent to open the door,

‘You don’t have to do this’ John soothed,

‘It’s fine John. We’ve eaten at Angelo’s before now’ Sherlock grumbled playfully ‘I’ll be fine’

John nodded and opened the door to allow Sherlock to go through; the waitress smiled genuinely at the two men who were holding hands as they entered,

‘Evening gentlemen’ she smiled ‘do you have a reservation?’

‘Yes, it’s under Watson’ John replied, watching the girl skim across the page until she reached his booking

‘Ah yes, if you’d follow me’ she smiled ‘I’m Sally’

‘I’m John and this…’ John started before being cut off by Sally

‘Sherlock Holmes. I know’ she smiled softly ‘I follow your blog. Didn’t imagine id see you somewhere like Whitby’

John grinned as he took his seat ‘You follow the blog?’

‘Oh yes, never miss it’ Sally replied ‘and yours too Mr Holmes. I’m doing my chemistry degree so I enjoy your experiments a lot’

‘Thank you’ Sherlock smiled gracefully ‘Glad to see some people have taste’

John tutted playfully and rolled his eyes ‘that’s about as gracious as he gets’

‘May I say…?’ Sally started before trailing off into silence ‘it doesn’t matter’

‘Go on’ John insisted ‘You won’t offend us’

‘I know it doesn’t mean much from a stranger’ Sally smiled ‘but it’s good to see that you’re finally together. You look very happy’

Sherlock blushed and lowered his head as John nodded and looked between Sherlock and Sally ‘thank you’

‘I’ll get the menu’s’ she whispered as she rushed off to grab the plastic cards.

‘She seemed nice’ John said softly stroking Sherlock’s hand with his thumb

‘Do you think we’ll get hounded by the press?’ Sherlock asked nervously,

‘Doubt it. If all else fails we can set Mycroft on them’ John laughed as Sally returned with the menus.

‘I heard what you said about the press’ Sally admitted ‘I know it’s not much, but I won’t tell anyone. Do you mind if I write that I met you though?’

‘Not at all’ John smiled ‘Thank you Sally’

Sally removed herself to let the men look over the menu in peace; John decided immediately and watched as Sherlock picked his order. Sally returned to write their choices onto paper before smiling and telling them to call her over if they needed anything else.

* * *

 

The food was delicious; hot and flavourful it caused both men’s mouths to water in anticipation as Sally brought it over and set it down with a ‘enjoy’

Sherlock ate slowly but happily as the two men discussed their trip and what was left to do; John still hadn’t found Mrs H a present so that was top of the list for tomorrow before they had to catch their afternoon train. Sherlock admitted that he wanted to go out on one of the fishing vessels into the ocean as there were rumours of dolphins and whales in the area. John nodded and agreed that they would look into it the next morning.

Both men ate the majority of their food and drank a bottle and a half of wine between them as they chatted and lovingly gazed at one another over the candlelight. John watched enraptured as Sherlock turned his head as though he was hearing something only he could hear,

‘Sherlock?’ John asked,

‘The music is beautiful’ the detective whispered ‘It’s pure and wonderfully serene’

John listened to the music but could only hear a selection of instruments; he didn’t understand the melodies as much as Sherlock obviously.

‘Would you like dessert?’ Sally asked,

‘No thank you’ John groaned patting his stomach ‘can we take the wine to go?’

‘Of course’ she smiled as she took the bottle to recork and package. John waved Sherlock away as the detective attempted to pay the bill

‘My treat’ John smiled as he laid down the money including a very generous tip for Sally.

‘Here you go’ Sally hummed as she returned the bottle ‘Thank you very much’

‘Take care Sally’ Sherlock whispered as he picked up his coat ‘Thank you for the lovely service’

‘Pleasure’ Sally laughed as she gave a mock curtsy ‘Goodnight’

* * *

 

The two men were happily tipsy as they walked back to the hotel room with the remainder of their bottle of wine. They held hands and walked alongside the guard rail as they looked over the side at the waves,

The men walked past a pub where a selection of drunken men sat in the beer garden; their cries and loud shouts echoing around the high street as Sherlock and John walked past. The detective was oblivious to any change in the mood but John tensed up, expecting comments from drunken louts as the two men passed by holding hands.

John held his breath; his other hand curled up into a fist beside him as they walked past the drunken revellers outside. He exhaled when he realised that nobody had said a word, the group hadn’t even looked up from their conversation as the couple passed by.

‘You expected trouble?’ Sherlock whispered,

‘I don’t know… I didn’t expect that’ John admitted

‘I was researching the area earlier, apparently they have a type of outdoor festival based around the Gothic subculture due to its link to Dracula’ Sherlock spoke softly ‘It’s often seen as one of the most relaxed and tolerant places for people who are deemed outcasts to visit. Transgender people are able to dress up however they want without a word being said, gay couples can walk hand in hand without being hassled and for the whole weekend, people are able to be who they want to be’

‘That’s nice’ John smiled ‘If only it could be like that everywhere’

‘We should come up one weekend. I might dress up’ Sherlock joked watching John’s eyes grow wide with interest.

‘Oh Dr Watson’ Sherlock moaned saucily ‘I didn’t know you had it in you’

‘Shuttup’ John hissed with a grin ‘Git’


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men entered the lobby of the hotel with a smile to the service desk assistant who smiled back as the pair crossed to the stairway leading to their room; John was startled momentarily as he felt Sherlock’s hand reach into his back pocket and caress his buttock through the thick denim. John lifted an eyebrow as he looked over at Sherlock, whose eyes had become almost black with lust and need,
> 
> ‘John’ he whispered, his voice deep and desperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty smutty smut!

_The men entered the lobby of the hotel with a smile to the service desk assistant who smiled back as the pair crossed to the stairway leading to their room; John was startled momentarily as he felt Sherlock’s hand reach into his back pocket and caress his buttock through the thick denim. John lifted an eyebrow as he looked over at Sherlock, whose eyes had become almost black with lust and need,_

‘John’ he whispered, his voice deep and desperate.

The doctor was breathless as Sherlock pushed him up against the wall and begun to lick and suck up and down John’s neck and throat, nibbling on his earlobe and licking around the shell of John’s ear.

‘Need you’ Sherlock whispered desperately,

John smiled and pulled Sherlock’s head up for a passionate kiss; more tongue and desperation than skill as they snogged relentlessly against the corridor walls, uncaring of passers-by as they ground themselves against one another.

‘Bedroom’ John whispered

Sherlock nodded and moved to grab John’s hand, pulling him up the stairs to their room and locking the door behind them. John looked stunned as he put down the wine and watched Sherlock saunter over sensually, dropping his coat and toeing off his shoes as he grabbed John’s cheeks and kissed him messily.

‘Slow down’ John stammered ‘are you sure we’re not moving too fast?’

Sherlock shook his head; his curls bouncing wildly as he attacked John’s neck and trailed love bites up and down the creamy skin. John’s legs almost buckled as Sherlock began undressing him, pulling off the black jumper and unzipping the jeans until John stood in underwear and socks. Sherlock stripped himself quickly and efficiently until he too was only in his black boxers, his impressive erection pressed against the fabric of his underwear and a spot already showing through.

John allowed himself to be steered towards the bed as Sherlock prowled beside him looking like a predatory feline; the doctor stretched out on the bed with a smile as Sherlock climbed over him and rested his bum over John’s thighs as he licked and sucked on John’s nipples.

‘Is- Is this good?’ Sherlock asked, his confidence veneer slipping slightly

‘Fantastic’ John groaned as Sherlock shifting bringing his weight against John’s desperate erection.

‘I owe you one… from before’ Sherlock sultry voice whispered into John’s ear ‘Lift’

John lifted his hips and allowed Sherlock to pull down his underwear until he was bare and naked in the muted street light from outside.

Sherlock ran his hands up and down John’s length; finally being able to take his time and catalogue the shaft rather than rush through it like they had in the shower. He rubbed his hand across the slightly wet tip, watching enraptured as John hissed in pleasure and lifted his hips.

John’s cock was a fine specimen of manhood; perfectly sized to be impressive without being terrifying or porn star freakish. Sherlock ran his hands up and down the silky skin feeling each vein move with his strokes; the younger man watched as another bead of pearly precum gathered at the tip before beginning its descent down to the bush of blonde-brown curls. Sherlock tried to remember any of the techniques he had seen in his ( _limited)_ porn watching sessions or what Victor had enjoyed but his mind was blank. He began to panic, his hands stopping their teasing and staying frozen on John’s cock.

‘You ok?’ John whispered, his hand stroking Sherlock’s cheekbone.

‘I don’t know what to do’ Sherlock admitted

John nodded and moved his hand to wrap around Sherlock’s using both joined hands to slowly begin a gentle rhythm up and down; Sherlock watched his pale hand being joined by the slightly tanned one of John’s and relaxed, his breathing steadying as he followed John’s guidance,

‘Oh gods yes, just like that’ John moaned ‘give me your hand’

Sherlock frowned and moved his hand to John’s, watching as the doctor gently brought the callused fingers to his mouth and began to suck and spit on them, his tongue licking on Sherlock’s palm to make it wet. Sherlock’s breathing hitched as he felt the first tentative licks onto his palm before John removed his hand and placed it back on his dick,

‘Oh god’ John whimpered ‘so good’

Sherlock moved his hand quicker; the slippery saliva mixing with the precum to ease the way as his hand picked up pace,

‘Sherlock’ John croaked ‘Close’

‘Cum for me John, let me see’ Sherlock whispered, his eyes wide as he looked over at John’s flushed face and neck, the love bites standing out proudly against pale skin and then down to the angry, red cock which had Sherlock’s hand wrapped around it and was being pumped quickly. John groaned and bucked his hips into Sherlock’s grasp, moaning louder and filthily with each stroke.

John’s face scrunched into one of exquisite pleasure as he reached his peak and crashed over the edge; his body froze still as his cock twitched in Sherlock’s hand and began to unload ropes of white cum over Sherlock’s fist and John’s lower stomach. The doctor whined low in his throat and gripped the bedding as Sherlock continued to stroke him through his orgasm before removing his hand and pulling out his own cock from his boxers,

‘Do you mind?’ Sherlock asked embarrassed as his hand was already wrapped around his cock and stroking quickly.

‘No. Please, cum for me Sherlock. Show me’ John whispered his eyes heavy with the afterglow of his orgasm.

Sherlock stayed put on John’s thighs but bucked his hips into his fist as he stroked himself quickly; desperately keen to reach his own climax as he thrust harder and faster until he reached the precipice, looking down at John he met his lovers bright blue eyes and he was gone, his orgasm ripping through him until he was trembling and shaking, splashes of white painting John’s stomach and chest as the doctor held him close and whispered sweet nothings into the space between them.

‘God’ Sherlock whispered, his head falling forward to create a brown curtain between them.

‘I prefer John’ the older man quipped before giggling

Sherlock joined in with the laughter until both men sat naked and softening, their ejaculate cooling on John’s belly as they shook with giggles.

‘Why are we laughing?’ Sherlock asked as he wiped away a tear

‘I have no idea’ John admitted before pulling Sherlock down for a kiss, their chuckles still resonating through one another’s lips.

‘I think I better clean you up’ Sherlock grimaced ‘Otherwise you’ll be stuck to the bed by morning’

‘Hmm,’ John whispered already falling asleep.

Sherlock moved to grab a wet cloth and returned to clean John before helping the older man pull up his boxers and climbing in beside him; Sherlock lifted John’s arm and cuddled onto his chest, smiling when John cooed happily in his sleep and tightened his grip on Sherlock, his fingers curling into Sherlock’s hair as they fell asleep to the sound of waves.

* * *

 

Mycroft was about to leave for the evening when Anthea returned; although they didn’t keep business hours it was much later than Anthea usually stayed at work causing Mycroft to look up confused,

‘Everything alright?’ He asked casually watching as the young woman entered the room clicking away on her blackberry without looking up.

‘We have some footage we thought you should look at’ Anthea said motioning to Mycroft’s laptop.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and opened the relevant programme and started the CCTV footage. It was black and white and grainy but Mycroft could make out the relevant images. Sherlock and John had entered a stairway, John was carrying a bottle of wine and words were exchanged which Mycroft couldn't hear due to there being any sound on the camera. He watched as Sherlock pushed John against the wall and began kissing his friends neck, their hips grinding against one another as they heatedly kissed. Mycroft smiled as he watched Sherlock pull away, his face slightly flushed as the pair ran up the stairs to what Mycroft could only assume was their room.

‘Have the media been made aware?’ Mycroft asked Anthea who stood silently,

‘No. We have the only copy. Deleted it from the hard-drive’ Anthea answered without looking up

‘Good. Keep it that way’ Mycroft nodded ‘Thank you for bringing it to my attention’

* * *

 

John and Sherlock awoke to the sound of shrill seagulls calling from outside their window; the rain pattering against the window pane as the two men roused themselves from a wine and orgasm induced sleep.

‘Morning’ John whispered, gagging at the taste of his breath.

‘Mmmmm’ Sherlock grumbled, putting his head under the pillow ‘Why are seagulls so loud?’

‘To annoy you’ John joked as he stood and walked to the bathroom, relieving himself and brushing his teeth before returning to the bed and climbing into the side he had vacated, pressing his freezing cold feet onto Sherlock’s calves.

Sherlock threatened John with death if he ever did it again or if he ever told anybody about the unmanly squeal which escaped his lips as freezing cold toes burrowed into his warmth.

‘I love you’ Sherlock grumbled from under his cushion ‘but if you don’t make me tea and toast, I might have to smother you’

‘Grumpy sod’ John laughed without malice as he climbed from the bed and wrapped himself in his pyjama bottoms ‘Good job I love you’

‘Mmmfghh’ Sherlock mumbled ‘Tea and toast Jawn. Tea and toast’

* * *

 

Sherlock ate his toast whilst reading the news on his laptop in bed; John didn’t complain about crumbs considering he didn’t have to clean the sheets and they would be back in their own bed that night. John pottered around their room putting their belongings back into their luggage smiling as he found Sherlock’s ‘Suck me’ T shirt.

‘There’s been a murder in London’ Sherlock frowned ‘but Lestrade didn’t call’

‘It may have been simple’ John shrugged ‘maybe he didn’t need you this time?’

‘He always needs me’ Sherlock scoffed as he bit into the toasted bread.

‘Come on, we need to get out to pick up a gift’ John insisted ‘Do you still want to do the boat ride in the rain?’

Sherlock shook his head and swept away the crumbs from his front before climbing out of the bed and stretching; pulling on fresh underwear and dark jeans. He ran his fingers through his curls and stood with his hands on his hips,

‘I’m ready’ he grinned ‘come on’

John rolled his eyes and pulled on his jumper and shoes before taking Sherlock’s hand in his own and walking into the drizzly Whitby morning; the pair walked around the various trinket shops looking for something suitable for their landlady before stopping outside a shop which sold rare Whitby Jet jewellery.

‘That’s beautiful’ John swooned as he looked the window and pointed at a necklace which would be perfect for Mrs Hudson. Sherlock smiled and agreed, entering the shop and buying it without looking at the price.

‘Sherlock that was £300’ John gasped,

‘Oh’ Sherlock shrugged as he carried the small designer bag with the jewellery inside ‘She’s worth it’

John smiled softly and took Sherlock’s other hand in his own, rubbing his thumb over Sherlock’s skin as the men walked around the cobbled streets.

The men finished their shopping trip with a selection of Fudges, speciality teas which John had never heard of before and a glass _[lucky duck](http://luckyducks.tcchold.com/)_ which was apparently a Whitby tradition. They picked up their luggage and returned to the train station to catch the train home;

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Crime Scene, banks of the Thames. I’ll send the details and a car’ Lestrade barked down the phone knowing that Sherlock was already walking to get his coat and shoes.
> 
> ‘Who’s on forensics?’ Sherlock asked as he pulled his arms into his Belstaff sleeves.
> 
> ‘Anderson, but he’s already been warned’ Lestrade insisted ‘No Johnlock gags or he’s being transferred to vice’
> 
> Sherlock smiled and grunted acknowledgement hearing the car pull up outside ‘Won’t be long’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TW Vomiting*

The following week was reasonably quiet as John returned back to the clinic for sporadic shifts whilst Sherlock continued to experiment and torment Lestrade for cases; the pair shared Sherlock’s bed each night and found that their nightmares greatly reduced from just being close to one another. Sherlock ate more regularly although it wasn’t enough to be considered healthy, it was more than he had consumed previously thanks to John’s insistence and caring nature when Sherlock insisted he couldn’t face food that night, John allowed negotiation and slowly, Sherlock began to feel secure in himself and his appearance.

John gave Sherlock a kiss goodbye as he left for his shift at the clinic advising the detective that he would be home around six. Sherlock was busy cutting up plant leaves for an experiment and hardly looked up as John pressed a kiss to the corner of his lip,

‘Be good, see you later’ John said as he left the door and walked down the stairs.

* * *

 

‘John?’ Sherlock shouted hours later;

The flat was quiet; there was a distant hum of a vacuum cleaner from the next door neighbours and Sherlock could hear the laughing from Mrs Hudson’s TV ( _Jeremy Kyle reruns, one is guilty of stealing the sentimental heirloom)_ as he stood from his chair and stretched shouting once more for his lover. When he got no reply he checked his phone and realised the day and time; John had been at work for almost four hours.

His phone vibrated in his hand as he stared at Lestrade’s name written across the screen;

‘Yes?’ Sherlock greeted his friend,

‘Crime Scene, banks of the Thames. I’ll send the details and a car’ Lestrade barked down the phone knowing that Sherlock was already walking to get his coat and shoes.

‘Who’s on forensics?’ Sherlock asked as he pulled his arms into his Belstaff sleeves.

‘Anderson, but he’s already been warned’ Lestrade insisted ‘No Johnlock gags or he’s being transferred to vice’

Sherlock smiled and grunted acknowledgement hearing the car pull up outside ‘Won’t be long’

The pair disconnected the call as Sherlock flounced from the flat and ran down the stairs; he popped his head into Mrs Hudson’s flat to let her know he would be out before rushing towards the front door and onto Baker Street.

The detective stayed silent on the journey to the crime scene; he flicked through the details of the crime on his phone looking at pictures and deducing the scene before he had even arrived. When the car came to a halt, he climbed out and walked towards Lestrade who stood watching a small crowd gathered behind the tape.

Lestrade filled him in on the missing details; the victim was a banker, high stakes investor who had been found dead on the bank of the Thames by a passing construction worker. Lestrade cleared the scene and allowed Sherlock to stride around the body, doing his usual deductions.

‘Late 40’s, hair transplant, high cholesterol with onset of heart disease, received a blow to the head but actual cause of death is drowning’ Sherlock spoke quickly as Lestrade made notes ‘recent sexual activity but not with a significant other, he paid for sex’

‘How on earth can you tell that?’ Lestrade griped,

Sherlock grinned and waved his arms in a grand gesture as he pointed to various points on the corpse ‘Flies undone, could be that he had recently urinated and forgot to zip however added to the open and empty condom wrapper still inside his trouser pocket I would say that he’s had recent intercourse. Most couples, especially of this age use other methods of birth control when in long-term relationships which makes me think it’s a casual fling. The ATM receipt shows he took out £500 less than three hours ago, a sum which is no longer in his wallet. The money may have been stolen but more likely it has been spent. A banker like this could spend the money on various things but considering that it’s three in the afternoon on a Wednesday, I would imagine that he’s been to see his usual prostitute’

Lestrade blinked and sighed ‘fine. Anything else?’

‘Did he have a mobile phone on him?’ Sherlock asked, looking through the pockets of the corpse.

‘No. Not on him’ Lestrade said as he directed the coroner to take the body.

‘It must be around here’ Sherlock insisted looking around ‘It can’t have gone far’

‘How do you know he had one?’ Anderson asked from behind Lestrade, a look of distaste on his face as he looked over Sherlock.

‘He’s a banker. He’ll have a Blackberry, newest model’ Sherlock insisted.

‘You heard him’ Lestrade shouted at the team ‘have a look’

* * *

 

Sherlock had waded into the Thames mud up to his knees, his long coat soaking up the mucky and slightly smelly water as he ran his hands around the water searching for the missing mobile. He was thankful that his self-harm wounds had healed sometime before as the thought of catching a disease from the water wasn’t his idea of a good time ( _although it could make a good experiment… come back to this at a later date his mind insisted)._ He carefully edged himself further out until his hand rested on a hard case, lifting his hand he looked down at the mud and waterlogged phone with a grin before holding it up in triumph,

‘Got it’ he smiled as he moved closer to the bank, realising he was stuck.

Anderson walked over and sneered down at the detective who was covered in brown clay like mud from knee to foot and up both arms, smears of brown covered Sherlock’s face like the least effective camouflage.

‘Give me your hand?’ Sherlock asked,

‘Is this a come on?’ Anderson quipped before looking behind to check for Lestrade,

‘Shut up Anderson, just help me out’ Sherlock hissed angrily, he really missed John and wanted his blogger beside him.

Anderson groaned and held out his hand for Sherlock to grasp. The detective placed the mobile into his pocket and held out his hand, gripping Anderson tight and pulling one leg from the quagmire around him.

‘Jesus, you’re heavy’ Anderson groaned.

Sherlock swallowed the lump of panic which had formed in his throat at the comment;

‘I… Pull harder’ Sherlock insisted, trying to free himself as quickly as possible but finding himself getting more stuck.

‘I can’t. We’ll have to get more help… a fully staffed police force or possibly a winch’ Anderson joked, not realising his mistake.

Sherlock blinked back tears and shame as he nodded ‘Okay’

Anderson called over three strapping officers who walked towards the stranded man, helping him out of the mud with no hassle or fuss. Sherlock was trembling as he walked towards Lestrade, his face pale and his stomach rolling.

‘Sherlock?’ Lestrade whispered ‘Are you ok?’

‘C-Cold’ Sherlock muttered, hoping that the excuse would work ‘Here’s the phone. Let me know what you find’

‘Do you want me to ring John? You’re not looking good’ Lestrade said softly, looking over the pale detective.

‘No-No I’m fine’ Sherlock insisted ‘I’ll just… go home’

‘Alright mate yeh, we’ll let you know’ Lestrade looked over at Sherlock quizzically ‘I’ll get you a lift’

Sherlock nodded distantly and followed the sound of Lestrade’s voice as he ordered one of his on-duty officers to take Sherlock home. The officer grumbled at the mess Sherlock would make of his car but gave in when Lestrade glared angrily,

Sherlock travelled home in silence once more; his mind whirling with the thought of Anderson’s words. His breathing becoming panicked as they pulled up to Baker Street and Sherlock climbed from his seat and walked to his flat, dragging Thames mud into the house and up the stairs.

* * *

 

Sherlock undressed quickly until he was in his undershirt and boxer shorts; his hands shook wildly as he tried to convince himself not to do anything rash but he realised the part of his mind which dealt with his _old_ self was becoming stronger.

Walking to the bathroom Sherlock lowered himself to the floor and sat with his back against the bathtub as he looked at the toilet basin. The smell of lemon bleach and chemicals so strong that it almost made Sherlock’s eyes water as he moved closer, looking down at the rippling water beneath.

His fingers were down his throat before he even considered the implication; Sherlock gagged and retched dramatically as his breakfast and cups of tea were brought back up into the water.

* * *

 

John was sitting in his office when the receptionist called through on his phone;

‘Dr Watson? A DI Lestrade is on the line’ the pretty receptionist Rebecca said,

‘Put him through thanks’ John replied, listening to the line connect and Rebecca hang up.

‘Greg?’ John smiled ‘How’s it going?’

‘Yeh, fine’ Greg mumbled before inhaling ‘have you spoke to Sherlock today?’

‘Not since I left for work, why?’ John asked quizzically,

‘We got a case, over by the Thames. Murder and what not so I called Sherlock who came down. He was fine, doing his usual business until there was an issue with him getting caught in the mud’ Lestrade explained, a slight pause and the flicking of a lighter the only noise for a moment ‘from what I saw, Anderson tried to help and said something but I couldn’t hear, anyway next thing I know Sherlock’s coming over to me with a deathly pale face and a stammering voice’

John sighed and put his head in his hands ‘you didn’t hear what he said?’

‘No, not sure if it was about you two and your… thing’ Greg continued, ‘or something else but it seemed to have upset Sherlock’

‘Cheers Greg, I’ll pop over now’ John insisted hanging up the phone and grabbing his keys and wallet from his drawer.

The receptionists weren’t happy with their on-call doctor rushing off but John couldn’t have cared any less; he left the clinic and hailed a cab before rushing home.

* * *

 

Sherlock was still gagging and whimpering as John entered the flat and followed the muddy footprints up the stairs. He saw the pile of pitted clothing on the landing and heard the tell-tale sound of retching from the bathroom. John steeled himself and opened the door looking down at the pale and sweaty man curled around the toilet bowl.

‘Oh,’ John soothed ‘What happened?’

Sherlock shook his head and whined low in his throat as John moved closer ‘Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit?’

Sherlock nodded sadly before lifting himself back to his knees and gagging harder over the toilet, unhappy that there was nothing left in his stomach.

‘Do you want some water?’ John asked softly,

Sherlock nodded again and watched John leave. Tears streamed down Sherlock’s face partly from the vomiting and partly through self-hate as he listened to John run the tap and then stride back to the bathroom, leaving the glass on the floor and moving himself to the living room.

The detective stayed still on the floor of the bathroom for almost twenty minutes before feeling up to moving; he gripped the sink tightly as he pulled himself up and flushed the chain, rinsing his mouth out and brushing his teeth before walking dejectedly into the living room where John sat on the sofa.

‘Feel better?’ John whispered

‘No’ Sherlock groaned sitting opposite John in the furthest away corner of the sofa.

‘Want to talk about it?’ John coaxed ‘You’ve done so well lately’

‘Anderson’ Sherlock spat,

‘I got that much. Lestrade called saying he was worried about you’ John replied,

‘He was trying to help me out of the mud’ Sherlock explained ‘he told me that I was heavy and they would need a team of men and a winch to get me out’

John bit his lip and nodded ‘you do realise he probably didn’t realise what he was saying?’

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked at John suspiciously ‘Why are you defending him?’

‘I’m not’ John insisted ‘I just mean, he’s not aware of your… issue and didn’t realise that saying the wrong thing would cause a problem. The man’s an idiot’

‘True’ Sherlock smiled weakly

‘Also, have you seen Anderson?’ John laughed ‘I bet you had your coat on as well?’

‘Yes…’ Sherlock frowned confused,

‘So, you have the weakest man in the world trying to pull you from quicksand whilst wearing a coat which soaked up half of the Thames’ John smiled ‘He probably didn’t mean you were heavy, he probably meant the coat’

‘Oh’ Sherlock whispered suddenly aware of what John was saying ‘I understand’

‘He wasn’t saying anything about your weight,’ John soothed ‘he was just being a twat’

Sherlock shuffled closer to John and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend in a bear hug as he rested his sweaty head against John’s chest ‘Are you upset with me?’

‘Of course not’ John soothed ‘you had a setback, that’s all. You’ve still done amazingly’

Sherlock blushed at the praise and totted up his weight gain so far; it had been hard going but he had put on almost half a stone since the two had begun their relationship and for once; Sherlock wasn’t obsessive over the numbers under the scale dial.

‘Are you disappointed?’ Sherlock whispered ‘I tried’

‘One tiny blip, that’s all’ John smiled as he stroked Sherlock’s hair ‘are you up for a cup of herbal tea?’

Sherlock stuck his tongue out in distaste ‘Can I have Earl Grey?’

John nodded and pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s head ‘Anything for you.’


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the call came, Sherlock was lying on his back with John’s hands wrapped around his leaking prick. John was sweating and kissing along Sherlock’s throat as the buzzing of Sherlock’s phone began on the bedside table; the doctor was shocked and frozen as Sherlock answered the call whilst still panting and on edge of orgasm,
> 
> ‘Yes?’ the panting detective moaned,
> 
> ‘Sherlock? You ok?’ Lestrade asked concerned,
> 
> ‘Fine, what have you got?’ Sherlock groaned, gesturing to John to continue with a sweep of his hand. John looked on like the younger man had gone mad.
> 
> ‘Found the location of the prostitute he normally saw. We’re on our way now’ Lestrade said as he walked through the halls of the Yard ‘Do you want a car sending?’
> 
> ‘We’ll get a cab, John is in the middle of giving me a hand job so I don’t want to have to rush’ Sherlock continued, totally unaware of John’s gasp and huge shocked eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of case-related bit, nothing too strenuous. I know nobody with the names given to the characters I just made it up. 
> 
> Also, the plug thing is real... the link is attached.

Lestrade was quiet for a few days whilst the Lab technicians cleaned up the phone and retrieved the information from the Blackberry. Sherlock was driving John insane with his constant declarations of the Yard’s inability to solve the simplest of tasks and insisting that he could find the brothel within hours. John strictly forbade Sherlock from going out alone, insisting that when Lestrade called with the information they would go together.

When the call came, Sherlock was lying on his back with John’s hands wrapped around his leaking prick. John was sweating and kissing along Sherlock’s throat as the buzzing of Sherlock’s phone began on the bedside table; the doctor was shocked and frozen as Sherlock answered the call whilst still panting and on edge of orgasm,

‘Yes?’ the panting detective moaned,

‘Sherlock? You ok?’ Lestrade asked concerned,

‘Fine, what have you got?’ Sherlock groaned, gesturing to John to continue with a sweep of his hand. John looked on like the younger man had gone mad.

‘Found the location of the prostitute he normally saw. We’re on our way now’ Lestrade said as he walked through the halls of the Yard ‘Do you want a car sending?’

‘We’ll get a cab, John is in the middle of giving me a hand job so I don’t want to have to rush’ Sherlock continued, totally unaware of John’s gasp and huge shocked eyes.

‘Oh.. er… right’ Lestrade mumbled down the phone, clearing his throat and staying silent for a moment too long ‘I’ll er… text you the details’

‘Thanks’ Sherlock said as he hung up and put the phone down on the table. His focus directly on John ‘where were we?’

‘Are you serious?’ John asked incredulously ‘You’ve just told the Detective Inspector we work with that I was wanking you off when you answered the phone’

‘Yes?’ Sherlock asked confused ‘He knows we’re together’

‘That’s not the point’ John sighed with a soft smile ‘Greg doesn’t need that mental image’

Sherlock shrugged and pulled John up for a deep and passionate kiss ‘We need to go, but I can’t go out like this’

John grinned and ran his fingers softly up and down the still hard length ‘I should make you, I should insist that you go out with an erection so everyone knows how lucky I am’. John kissed and nuzzled down Sherlock’s throat and neck as his hand sped up the rhythm ‘but I’m not that cruel’

‘You’re a terrible – man’ Sherlock gasped as John did something sinfully pleasurable to his tip ‘John Watson’

‘Hmmm,’ John groaned against Sherlock’s clavicle which had become less pronounced since the younger man had started to eat more.

Sherlock stiffened as John began sucking a mark into the pale skin of Sherlock’s chest; his breathing hitched as his cock began to tighten and release shot after shot of cum onto his stomach and John’s hand. A whine escaping his lips as he arched his back for better friction against John’s lips,

‘Beautiful’ John soothed,

‘Do you want me to…’ Sherlock gestured crudely to John who shook his head,

‘We better go face Greg’ John shuddered ‘plus, I don’t want you getting all stroppy on me if you miss the excitement’

‘Id miss it… for you’ Sherlock blushed ‘You mean more than a crime scene’

‘That’s—that’s actually really sweet Sherlock thank you’ John smiled softly, his heart fit to burst.

‘We’re off to see the prostitute’ Sherlock shouted in a sing-song voice,

‘The wonderful prozzie of er… Chelsea’ John said looking down at the details on Sherlock’s phone ‘doesn’t have the same ring to it really’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about’ Sherlock shrugged ‘come on! We’ll be late’

* * *

 

The house in which the prostitute lived was a detached, reasonably priced and completely unsuspicious as Sherlock, John and Lestrade walked up the driveway to knock on the door. The atmosphere between the men was slightly strained ( _not that Sherlock noticed, he was in full detective mode)_ as the doctor and DI attempted to make small talk without actually looking at one another. The trio walked to the door and waited for the woman to answer;

‘Yeh?’ the woman replied, a cigarette between her fingers and rollers in her hair.

‘Olivia Winstone?’ Lestrade asked, showing her his badge and watching as she stiffened nervously,

‘Er… yeh, come in’ she whispered, opening the door wider and beckoning the men out of view of her neighbours ‘can I ask what this is about?’

‘A Mr Vincent Clarke was found dead yesterday, we have information that he was last seen with you’ Lestrade spoke clearly as the woman was scrutinized by Sherlock’s penetrating gaze.

‘Am I in trouble?’ she asked nervously,

‘Depends on what you did’ Lestrade answered ‘for the prostitution? No’

Olivia nodded and exhaled shakily as she flicked the cigarette ash into the ashtray and took another deep drag.

‘It was an accident’ Sherlock mumbled, looking at Olivia’s facial features ‘He didn’t die here’

‘No. No, he was alive when he left’ Olivia insisted

‘So what happened?’ John chimed in,

‘I’ll show you’

* * *

 

The men were led downstairs to a converted cellar unlike anything John had seen before; whips and chains hung from the walls, various masks and bondage gear hung on a rail along the wall but in the middle of all of the BDSM gear was a mound of broken wood and leather.

‘He came in for his usual session’ Olivia started, clearing her throat

‘What’s his usual?’ Lestrade asked without really wanting to know.

‘Nothing too strenuous, he likes to be tied up and humiliated. Sometimes I make him clean my house whilst he’s dressed as a dog with [this](http://www.extremerestraints.com/bizarre-butt-plugs_7/the-dog-tail-butt-plug_8154.html)’ she reached for an object which John didn’t recognise ‘inside him’

‘what is it?’ Sherlock asked quizzically, moving over to her and looking at the long, black object.

‘It’s an anal plug but in the shape of a tail. Can make it wag’ Olivia smiled as Greg and John exchanged looks.

‘Ooookay so he’s into domination and humiliation’ Lestrade added ‘so what was different’

Olivia blushed and looked away ‘he was attached to my table, a leather covered heavy wood thing with various hooks and things to attach ropes etc onto’ she gestured to the pile of wood ‘and he asked me to do something different this week’

Lestrade looked uncomfortable as he probed further,

‘He asked me to pee on him’ she blushed ‘It’s not an unusual kink, one I don’t mind fulfilling for the right price’

Sherlock moved around the room looking at various objects and toys; his eyes wide and nervous as he looked between John and a dildo the size and shape of a fist.

‘So what happened?’ Lestrade asked,

‘He was chained to the table, I climbed over him and… squatted’ Olivia flushed crimson ‘but I didn’t count on the weight of us combined… the table broke’

John bit his lip to stifle a giggle as he imagined the scene,

‘he fell hard with me on top of him. The table just splintered with him on top and he cracked his head on one of the metal covered bars; I immediately cleaned him up and checked him over but he insisted that he was fine. He paid me and left’ Olivia finished

‘Explains the head injury’ John insisted ‘Do you have the piece he hit?’

‘I don’t know which it was’ Olivia admitted ‘but feel free to take any of the pieces there’ she kicked at the wood with her slippered toes.

Lestrade and John nodded to one another, thanking Olivia for her time and motioning for Sherlock to follow them as they arranged for CSI to collect the pieces. The two men climbed back up the stairs and outside, realising that Sherlock wasn’t with them for a few moments when he arrived looking flustered but happy,

‘It’s simple really Lestrade. Man hit his head, tried to act tough in front of the lady he was paying for sex and walked home. On the way, he got dizzy and stopped on the bank of the Thames only to fall in and drown’ Sherlock finished with a flourish ‘No homicide, just another sexual misadventure’

Lestrade nodded and agreed, watching as Sherlock turned to walk towards the main road to hail a cab ‘speaking of sexual misadventure’

Sherlock spun around, his coattails floating in the breeze as he looked back at Lestrade who smiled ‘Next time I call and you’re… otherwise engaged. Don’t answer’

John blushed red and lowered his head as Sherlock chuckled to himself and bowed slightly as he walked off.

‘See ya Greg’ John mumbled like a teenager who had been told off by the head teacher.

‘Meet up for a pint soon yeh?’ Greg shouted after John who waved back with a yes.


	14. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘I want to go further’ Sherlock whispered seductively into John’s ear as they sat eating at Angelo’s to celebrate to solving of the not quite murder. John’s eyebrow lifted in surprise before he smiled and nuzzled his nose into Sherlock’s neck, thankful that Angelo had been gracious enough to give them a booth relatively secluded at the back of the restaurant.
> 
> ‘How so?’ John replied, kissing Sherlock’s neck and earlobe.
> 
> ‘I…’ Sherlock faltered and looked down bashfully until John moved to bring his chin up for eye contact,
> 
> ‘You can tell me’ John soothed,
> 
> ‘I – I want to slick up my thighs’ Sherlock whispered, his voice low and gravelly ‘and I want you to push your… cock between them and thrust’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1, Smut! Lots of filthy smut!

‘I want to go further’ Sherlock whispered seductively into John’s ear as they sat eating at Angelo’s to celebrate to solving of the _not quite_ murder. John’s eyebrow lifted in surprise before he smiled and nuzzled his nose into Sherlock’s neck, thankful that Angelo had been gracious enough to give them a booth relatively secluded at the back of the restaurant.

‘How so?’ John replied, kissing Sherlock’s neck and earlobe.

‘I…’ Sherlock faltered and looked down bashfully until John moved to bring his chin up for eye contact,

‘You can tell me’ John soothed,

‘I – I want to slick up my thighs’ Sherlock whispered, his voice low and gravelly ‘and I want you to push your… cock between them and thrust’

John looked over at Sherlock’s red and flushed face with awe; the doctor’s cock hardening immediately in his jeans as he watched Sherlock shyly biting his lower lip.

‘Christ Sherlock’ John groaned watching Sherlock curl into himself,

‘Sorry, you don’t have to… I just…’ Sherlock mumbled before being cut off by John taking his hand and placing it on his extremely hard cock.

‘God, I want you so much’ John groaned ‘I can’t wait to bend you over and feel you wrapping around me’

Sherlock’s squeak of surprise was almost enough to make John cum on the spot as the two men quickly rearranged themselves and called for the bill. Sherlock put a collection of notes on the table before grabbing John’s hand and pulling him out into the London dusk.

John ran along with Sherlock until they reached a darkened alleyway; John made a detour and grabbed Sherlock tightly, pushing him against the wall and unzipping Sherlock’s trousers and pulling out his cock. Both men were thankful for the long coat to cover any exposed flesh as John spat on his hand and wrapped it around Sherlock’s shaft,

‘You fucking tease, Sherlock Holmes’ John smiled as he kissed Sherlock passionately, one hand moving to cup Sherlock’s bollocks whilst the other stroked harder and quicker, desperately gripping the hard cock and stroking.

‘John, what if we get caught?’ Sherlock hissed nervously,

‘We’ll just have to be quick’ John chuckled, his thumb circling over the weeping tip and spreading the wetness down the tight skin of Sherlock’s dick.

‘I don’t… think... that’ll be a problem’ Sherlock gasped as John worked his cock harder and quicker, both men panting into one another’s neck’s as Sherlock got closer and closer to his release.

‘Do you want to cum for me, Sherlock?’ John groaned into Sherlock’s ear wantonly

‘Yes, god John’ Sherlock mumbled as he fell forward, grabbing John tightly and holding on ‘I’m going to… oh god John’

John pulled out a napkin from Angelo’s and held it at the end of Sherlock’s cock, feeling the younger man twitch and gasp as he reached the peak and spilled onto the cloth. John stroked him through his orgasm and kissed him softly as he slowly cleaned up the small spill and put the napkin into his pocket to burn at home ( _John didn't want a criminal mastermind to have access to Sherlock's semen)_

Sherlock rested his head against John’s forehead and smiled ‘you are truly debauched John Watson’

John winked at his lover and nodded ‘I try’ before the pair were off back to Baker Street.

‘Where did the idea come from?’ John asked casually as they walked hand in hand through the chilly streets,

Sherlock blushed and lowered his head ‘I asked the prostitute’

‘You did what?’ John stopped and stared at his lover ‘about what?’

‘I said I wanted to go further than hand jobs but without actual penetration or anything too…gay’ Sherlock clarified, looking down at John confused ‘and that’s what she suggested’

‘Oh,’ John chuckled ‘anything else?’

Sherlock grinned a huge smile ‘You’ll have to wait and see’

* * *

 

The two men barged through the doorway to the flat with no care or attention to the loud bang of the door hitting the wall behind them as Sherlock pushed John against the wall and began to kiss and suck on his lovers’ neck. John kicked off his shoes and jacket, helping Sherlock from his coat and leaving them trailing on the floor behind them as they walked towards Sherlock’s bedroom; the pair were naked and panting as they fell onto the bedding in a heap. John giggled and held Sherlock’s hair tightly as the pair wrestled playfully for dominance with John coming out on top, Sherlock laid on his back in the middle of the bed, opening the drawer by the bedside and fishing out the bottle of lubricant which had been stored there from John’s old room.

‘Wouldn’t it be easier on all fours?’ John asked quizzically, watching Sherlock freeze and shudder.

‘No’ the detective answered, shaking away the bad memories of Victor.

‘Shit, Sherlock I’m sorry’ John mumbled,

‘Don’t be. Touch me’ Sherlock insisted, clicking open the lube bottle and smearing the greasy lotion over his skin before pulling his legs up to his chest. The view was almost too much for John who gripped his base tightly to stop him popping off immediately as he saw the pale pink hole for the first time.

‘Fuck, you’re amazing’ John swooned as he bent forward and kissed Sherlock, pushing his cock between the thin and pale thighs, his gasp echoing around the bedroom as Sherlock tightened his muscles and gripped him tightly.

Sherlock crossed his ankles in the air and looked around his aloft legs to see John’s concentration face; his eyes were closed tightly and his mouth was gaping open, his tongue flicking out to lick against his dry lips as he slowly began to thrust into Sherlock’s thigh flesh. John’s once blonde hair was damp and matted to his head as he pistoned his hips harder and faster, realising that he was already too far gone to stop himself from coming.

‘Sh-Sherlock, touch yourself please’ John begged ‘I can’t – _fuck –_ I can’t hold on much longer’

Sherlock ran his hand between his thighs collecting some excess lube and precum from John’s cock and wrapping it around his shaft, tugging quickly and efficiently with a twist on the tip as he squeezed his thighs tighter,

‘Oh Christ’ John wailed ‘holy fuck’

Sherlock smiled, his tongue flicking out to catch the stray beads of sweat which ran from his forehead as he stroked harder and faster, his breathing becoming ragged once more and his eyes closing.

He felt the first warm spurt of cum hit his cock and hand and opened his eyes in time to see John throw his head back and growl deeply as his orgasm crashed over him, his hips stuttering and his chest heaving as he attempted to prolong the pleasurable sensations.

‘John’ Sherlock gasped his eyes wide as he too followed John into climax. His orgasm was less strong due to the fact he had come once before only a half an hour previously but he groaned and whined as his cock spurted a small amount of ejaculate onto his lower belly.

John pressed soft and loving kisses to Sherlock’s calves as he pulled his cock from the shining skin; he stood on wobbly legs and moved to collect the baby wipes which they had kept by the bedside ( _Sherlock’s insistence, he didn’t like John moving for a flannel after every climax, leaving the detective alone and cold),_ pulling one out he slowly cleaned Sherlock’s skin and his own cock before throwing the wipe in the general vicinity of the waste bin before collapsing onto the mattress beside Sherlock.

‘Good god...’ John mumbled

Sherlock turned onto his side and cuddled up to John, nuzzling his nose into the sweaty skin between jaw and clavicle.

A moment of silence lingered as the two men enjoyed the afterglow of their orgasms before John spoke;

‘Sherlock?’ John whispered,

‘Victor used to hold me down by my neck when I was on all fours. I know you wouldn’t but I didn’t want to think of him during that’ Sherlock explained without being asked ‘that’s all’

‘But you’re okay with what we did?’ John asked, kissing Sherlock’s curls.

‘John’ Sherlock sighed exasperatedly ‘I’ve just come twice in forty minutes. I’m pretty sure I’m okay’ the detective grinned before giggling.

‘Git’ John mumbled as he chuckled and cuddled further into John.


	15. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘P-Panic thought’ Sherlock whispered his first in a while.
> 
> ‘Ok’ John cooed stilling his hips ‘tell me’
> 
> ‘What if—what if you slip in?’
> 
> John smiled at the back of Sherlock’s hair, smelling the rich aroma of Sherlock’s shampoo and product ‘Believe me, that won’t happen’
> 
> ‘Will it hurt?’ Sherlock whispered ‘touching down there?’
> 
> John turned Sherlock around so they were face to face, their cocks brushing against one another as they gazed into one another’s eyes,
> 
> ‘I would never, ever do anything to hurt you’ John insisted ‘we don’t have to do anything’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Smut, tormenting Mycroft. Return of the Suck Me Tshirt

Sherlock awoke to the sensation of John wrapped around him from behind, slowly grinding his hips against his lover's thighs; the younger man turned his head to see John grinning and staring at him with large lust blown eyes.

‘How long did we sleep?’ Sherlock mumbled,

‘About an hour’ John shrugged ‘long enough’

‘Already?’ Sherlock feigned indignation ‘John Watson you brute’

‘Says you’ John snorted as he ran his fingers up and down Sherlock’s front. His hand cupping and stroking Sherlock’s left nipple,

‘Mmmmm’ Sherlock groaned, lifting his legs and letting John’s hard cock press between his thighs once more, feeling slightly panicked when the tip of John’s prick pressed against his perineum.

‘P-Panic thought’ Sherlock whispered his first in a while.

‘Ok’ John cooed stilling his hips ‘tell me’

‘What if—what if you slip in?’

John smiled at the back of Sherlock’s hair, smelling the rich aroma of Sherlock’s shampoo and product ‘Believe me, that won’t happen’

‘Will it hurt?’ Sherlock whispered ‘touching down there?’

John turned Sherlock around so they were face to face, their cocks brushing against one another as they gazed into one another’s eyes,

‘I would never, ever do anything to hurt you’ John insisted ‘we don’t have to do anything’

‘No’ Sherlock said firmly ‘I want to try’

John nodded and allowed Sherlock to kiss him sweetly before the detective turned back over and smeared more lube over his thighs, lifting his leg he pushed John between his thighs and squeezed.

Neither man had any other thoughts as they thrust and bucked against one another; Sherlock gasped each time the sensitive nerves of his perineum and cleft were stroked by John and John groaned and swore whenever Sherlock tightened his grip on john's prick.

When John came, he came hard; painting the inside of Sherlock’s legs and his perineum with warm cum which dripped lazily onto the bedding beneath to join Sherlock’s third, smaller load on the sheets.

‘Mmmmm love you’ John whispered into Sherlock’s curls as he stroked the man’s chest softly, turning his head for a deep and loving kiss.

Sherlock was alert and listening as John lazily stretched;

‘Sherlock? Everything alright?’ John asked nervously,

‘Mycroft’ Sherlock sneered as he heard the familiar footfalls on the stairs,

‘Oh god. Do you think he knows?’ John asked,

‘Of course, I expect you’ll be receiving _the talk’_ Sherlock sniggered as he climbed from the bed and walked to get a fresh sheet from his drawers, wrapping it around him toga style and exiting the bedroom just as Mycroft opened the living room door.

* * *

 

The scene was fairly obvious even to the most unobservant of men; clothes lined the passageway between the stairs and the bedroom including Sherlock’s coat and John’s bright red pants. Mycroft sniffed haughtily and walked through to the living room taking a seat in John’s chair and watching as Sherlock walked through in his sheet.

Mycroft screwed up his nose at the lingering scent of ejaculate before smiling at his brother ‘enjoy your holiday?’

‘We’ve been back nearly a fortnight Mycroft’ Sherlock spat as he plonked himself down gracelessly on the sofa.

‘Alas, I’ve been busy’ Mycroft spoke softly as he looked over at Sherlock’s appearance ‘You look healthy’

Sherlock blushed and looked away from his brother ‘Thank you’

‘Sleeping better too?’ Mycroft asked genuinely.

‘Yes. I’ve put on a stone give or take’ Sherlock blushed crimson and rubbed his face ‘what do you want?’

‘Just a friendly visit to my sibling’ Mycroft insisted,

‘Liar’ Sherlock grinned as he looked over at his brother ‘Oh god’

‘Yes,’ Mycroft grimaced,

‘It’s not’ Sherlock mumbled

‘It is’ Mycroft confirmed

‘What’s happened?’ John asked, fully dressed and looking less debauched than Sherlock. The doctor clicked on the kettle and moved to sit on the arm of the sofa, wrapping his arm protectively around Sherlock.

‘Annual Holmes Sunday Lunch’ Mycroft cringed ‘and Grandmother will be there’

John looked between Sherlock and Mycroft nervously, ‘Is that not a good thing?’

‘You’ve been invited too, John. They won’t take no for an answer’ Sherlock added ‘that’s why he’s here’

‘Not only that’ Mycroft added sounding hurt ‘I wanted to check on you’

‘Oh’ John whispered as he walked into the kitchen ‘We got you a gift from Whitby’

Mycroft frowned and looked at Sherlock who looked bashfully and shrugged as John handed him a small bag.

The laugh which escaped Mycroft was unlike any Sherlock had heard; deep belly laughs resonated around the flat as Mycroft held up the bright ‘Suck me’ T-shirt.

‘Would make your meetings more interesting’ Sherlock quipped.

‘Thank you. It’s delightful’ Mycroft lied, noticing the boxes of fudge and packages of tea ‘I better be going. I’ll send details of the date call mummy and let her know you’ll be attending’

‘Yes yes’ Sherlock waved his brother away ‘fine’

‘Well… that was interesting’ John smiled as he pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead ‘You’ll have to tell me about your family’


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Please, call me John. Only my patients and my parents call me Dr Watson’ John charmed, watching as Mrs Holmes gushed and chuckled at John’s joke.
> 
> ‘Mycroft is with your father in the study’ Violet said with a frown ‘I’m afraid they’ve already gotten at the nasty brandy and cigars’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting chapter early as id normally post it tomorrow afternoon but I'll be going out. Enjoy! Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Also, I made up the names of Sherlock's parents.

The Holmes manor was exactly how John had pictured it; a huge Edwardian building covered in vines of Ivy which obscured the old brickwork and gave everything a perfect country feel. Sherlock nervously tapped his foot as they were driven up the long and winding driveway to the house;

‘Shh calm down, its fine’ John soothed ‘you’ll be fine’

‘Grandmother hasn’t seen me for a long time… not since…’ Sherlock trailed off,

‘Well, you’re better now. You’re clean and presentable, you’re successful and famous and you have a devilishly handsome doctor on your arm’ John grinned cheekily watching Sherlock relax slightly ‘I’m here with you’

Sherlock nodded and inhaled shakily as the car pulled up to the house and the driver exited to open the doors ( _something of which John could never get used to)._ Sherlock followed John and walked towards his mother with open arms and a smile, grabbing her tightly and holding her close.

‘My darling boy’ Mrs Holmes smiled, pulling him in and squeezing tight,

‘Mummy, this is Dr John Watson, John Watson my mother Violet Holmes’ Sherlock said as he pulled away and gestured towards John who walked up to the lady with a large genuine smile,

‘Dr Watson, I’ve heard a lot about you’ Mrs Holmes smiled as John embraced her

‘Please, call me John. Only my patients and my parents call me Dr Watson’ John charmed, watching as Mrs Holmes gushed and chuckled at John’s joke.

‘Mycroft is with your father in the study’ Violet said with a frown ‘I’m afraid they’ve already gotten at the nasty brandy and cigars’

John huffed a laugh and moved to pick up his and Sherlock’s luggage only to be pulled along by Sherlock ‘staff will do it’

‘I can manage’ John insisted ‘Honestly’

Sherlock rolled his eyes and grabbed John’s cheeks ‘Just go with it. Pretend you’re that man with the floppy hair from the film about the boat’

John giggled and shook his head ‘Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic you mean’

‘Yes,’ Sherlock shrugged ‘probably. Just work from the outside in’

‘Git’ John chuckled softly as he entwined their fingers together and allowed himself to be pulled into the huge manor house.

* * *

 

‘Ah, Lockie!’ Mr Holmes called as the youngest Holmes entered the study to be met with a large fatherly bear hug.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and blushed ‘Sherlock father, my name is Sherlock’

‘You were always my darling Lockie when you were a child and you will be until I’m dust’ Mr Holmes insisted as he walked towards John, his hand outstretched,

‘Mr Holmes’ John said as he shook the offered hand ‘I’m John’

‘Ah yes, Mykey has been telling us all about you, I’m Gerald’ Mr Holmes smiled ‘Please, can I get you a drink?’

John narrowed his eyes and stared at Mycroft who seemed very interested in his glass ‘erm, thank you’

Sherlock waved away his own offered glass and took a seat on the old wingback chair which had always been his favourite. He watched as John made conversation with his father and suddenly felt very overwhelmed with affection for his lover;

‘Traffic wasn’t too bad then?’ Mr Holmes was asking, ‘Did you see the cricket at the weekend? Terrible show’

‘I’m more of a rugby man’ John smiled,

‘Did you play much?’ Mr Holmes replied, interested in John’s life

‘A little bit, through school and university and sometimes in the army when it was quiet.’ John shrugged ‘didn’t happen very often’

‘I imagine. A bit of a hero I hear’ the father smiled at John ‘getting shot and whatnot’

‘Father please’ Sherlock mumbled ‘Let’s not discuss that’

‘I see, forgive me’ the eldest Holmes nodded ‘I’ve forgotten my manners’

John frowned at Sherlock ‘I don’t mind’

The arrival of Violet Holmes had the men quiet and subdued as she shuffled into the study with a genuine smile ‘Your rooms are ready. Sherlock, your old room is prepared for you and John’

Sherlock nodded and stood, taking John’s hand as the doctor said his farewells before being dragged into the hallway and up the stairs to Sherlock’s childhood bedroom.

The room was larger than any bedroom John had ever seen previously; he looked over at the huge bed in the middle of the room and grinned happily,

‘Seriously? You lived here as a child’ he asked a bored looking Sherlock,

‘Tedious’ Sherlock drawled,

John sat on the edge of the bed and threw himself backwards, smiling when Sherlock put himself between John’s legs and moved down for a passionate and lazy kiss. The two men snogged relentlessly, grinding their hard cocks against one another through the fabric of their trousers as their sighs echoed around the grandiose surroundings,

They were startled by a knock on the door and Mycroft’s voice oozing through the wood ‘Dinner is almost ready, don’t be getting too…distracted’

The two men giggled childishly and pressed a few lingering kisses against one another’s lips as they stood and straightened themselves up to look more presentable. Sherlock insisted on changing for dinner whilst John washed himself and rearranged his hair to look less messy,

‘Shall we Mr Holmes?’ John smiled,

* * *

 

‘Grandmother isn’t expected until tomorrow’ Violet explained as she carefully picked at her food ‘She’ll be very excited to see you both’

Sherlock snorted only to be kicked softly by John under the table; a lingering glare crossing the doctor’s features ‘Yes, I’m sure she will’ the younger man added.

The food had been brought out by the staff who had left the family to serve themselves from the various dishes. John looked over at the feast and licked his lips as he looked over the plentiful spread; he watched Sherlock nervously scoop a small portion of food onto his plate and eat slowly and anxiously, checking the people around him to ensure nobody was watching him eat. John purposefully avoided Sherlock’s gaze as he ate his fill of perfectly cooked venison and roast potatoes.

‘This is extraordinary’ he groaned looking over at Violet ‘delicious’

‘Cook is very good’ she smiled in reply ‘oh Gerald dear, do you remember when Sherlock used to rush around the kitchens? Helping Cook to make jams and spreads with the apples. He was always an inquisitive child’

‘Not much has changed’ John grinned ‘except instead of helping, he mainly hinders my food preparation by leaving experiments in the fridge… or the oven… or the cupboards… or under my bed’

‘Sherlock Holmes!’ Violet scolded ‘poor John’

Sherlock rolled his eyes and shook his head ‘don’t listen to him mummy, he’s overly dramatic’

John chuckled and ran his leg up and down Sherlock’s calve, watching the younger man blush and stammer.

Mycroft cleared his throat and glared at both men who immediately stopped what they were doing; focussing intently on their plates as the older Holmes brother shook his head.

* * *

 

After dinner, the family retired to the main sitting room where the men poured more liquor and talked politics into the night. Sherlock wasn’t interested and curled himself up beside his mother who was reading a textbook on Molecular Chemistry and correcting mistakes in pencil in the margins whilst Sherlock laid his head on his mother’s lap and allowed her to stroke through his hair. John watched from across the room, attempting to keep up with Mycroft and Gerald’s conversation but being drawn to the view of his beloved boyfriend being comforted by his mother.

‘It’s sweet isn’t it?’ Gerald whispered looking over at the scene ‘We didn’t think we’d ever get Lockie back’

‘I’ve never seen him like that’ John admitted watching Sherlock trace patterns on the sofa with his long finger,

‘We haven’t for a long time’ Mycroft added softly ‘you’re a good influence on him Dr Wat- I mean John’

‘Thank you’ John blushed looking down ‘It’s not all one-sided. He keeps me right too’

* * *

 

John and Sherlock returned to their bedroom exhausted and drained from their travel and evening with the Holmes family. Both showered and relaxed naked into the decadently large bed with its heavy feather duvet,

‘John?’ Sherlock whispered, his cheek resting against John’s heart.

‘Hmm?’ the doctor replied sleepily watching as Sherlock’s curly hair began to kiss and lick down the soft skin of his chest and abdomen until reaching the nest of blonde curls in which the flaccid pink cock hung. Sherlock steeled himself with a deep breath before lapping at the soap scented skin, his warm wet tongue licking around the excess foreskin of John’s prick,

‘Gah’ John moaned ‘Sherlock?’

‘Shh’ the younger man whispered ‘I want to try’

John nodded and let his head fall back as he gripped the bedding around him tightly; it had been far too long since he had had any type of oral sex and Sherlock’s mouth was temptingly inviting. The detective paid attention to every inch of John’s growing cock, feeling it expanding and filling with blood on his tongue and pressing against his palate as he attempted to push more inside his throat.

‘Slowly’ John soothed, his hand moving to stroke Sherlock’s hair only to have the younger man squeak nervously and freeze ‘shit, shit sorry Sherlock; I wasn’t going to push down’

‘It’s… okay’ Sherlock nodded as he exhaled ‘I’m okay’

Placing John’s hand back on his head; Sherlock slowly took his time in looking and tasting every part of John’s dick and inner thighs, pressing soft kisses along the shaft and then down to the slightly hairy bollocks which hung below. John tightened his hand in the bedding and softly stroked Sherlock’s hair away from the younger man’s eyes.

Sherlock relaxed his mouth and swallowed John as far down as he could before pulling back and gasping; his gag reflex more sensitive through the years of forced vomiting. John stroked him softly once more and whispered words of encouragement as Sherlock looked up slightly lost,

‘Help me… I can’t remember how’ Sherlock admitted with a blush,

‘Whatever you were doing, _Jesus_ its fine, keep doing that’ John groaned, his back arching as Sherlock moved to encircle John’s cock with his lips. Those perfect bows looking deliciously naughty stretched around his thick shaft,

Sherlock added his hand to the bottom of John’s prick, stroking up and down with his fist whilst bobbing his head back and forth, tasting the musky and slightly salty precum flowing onto his tongue and down his throat. Sherlock reached further down with his spare hand, tugging and stroking the older man’s bollocks in time with his oral onslaught, a finger pressing further back onto the perineum.

‘Christ’ John spat, his voice low and husky as he gripped the bedding tighter,

‘John… I want to taste you everywhere’ Sherlock whispered lustily, his eyes blown black.

‘I don’t understand’ John mumbled, looking down as Sherlock blushed and lowered his eyes

Sherlock repositioned himself and moved John’s legs to a better angle; pulling them up to his chest he exposed the pinky brown wrinkled skin of John’s arsehole.

‘Oh,’ John blushed ‘Err… if you’re sure’

Sherlock nodded and lowered his head to the cleft of John’s arse; he tentatively extended his tongue and swept down the buttocks from perineum to the puckered hole and back again listening to the cry of absolute bliss which echoed around Sherlock’s childhood bedroom as John experienced something different and unknown for the first time. The thought of such a filthy area being so delightfully exposed to Sherlock’s gaze and tongue was enough to make him almost spill onto his stomach. Sherlock twisted his tongue and grazed John’s rim, the muscles fluttering around the invader as John keened and moaned, his head thrashing side to side desperately.

The younger man was struggling to breathe with the strange position of his head pressed up into John’s fleshy buttocks but he didn’t care one bit as he extended his tongue, making it change shape from pointed, to flat.

John realised that Sherlock wasn’t comfortable and blushed at what he planned to do; he pushed Sherlock away for a second before turning onto his front and going onto all fours, pushing his arse into the air to allow easier access for his lover. Sherlock grinned filthily and jumped off the bed to rush into the bathroom, returning with a hand towel he placed it directly under John’s dripping cock and positioned himself closer to the hole, his tongue flicking out to taste John fully.

‘Oh Sherlock’ John gasped breathlessly grabbing the pillow tightly and biting into it to muffle his cries of pleasure.

Sherlock licked and sucked at John’s rim; once the hole was relaxed he began to push his tongue inside the tightness to John’s body. Tasting the musky and perfect taste of John on his tongue and lips as he desperately teased John to his breaking point; John pushed himself back, attempting to get more of Sherlock on or in him, he wasn’t entirely sure. He wanted more.

The detective spat on his hand and began to stroke John slowly; the leaking cock dripping precum onto the towel below as Sherlock twisted his hand in the way which John had shown him when they first became intimate. John shuddered and gasped, feeling himself nearing his completion as Sherlock continued to lick and probe at his puckered hole.

‘Fuck, Sherlock, god’ John groaned, his desperation evident as Sherlock hummed against his skin. John cried out loudly, his voice cracking as he tensed and shuddered before climaxing onto the towel below, streams of cum covered the fabric as Sherlock teased him through his peak,

John allowed himself to fall forward; his shoulders hitting the bed and his head becoming engulfed in pillows as his arms struggled to keep him upright after the intense climax. Sherlock quickly moved the towel to one side and positioned himself between John’s sweat sticky thighs; spitting on his hand he quickly slicked up the flesh and pushed his cock between John’s legs, encouraging John to squeeze them together as he pushed into the tightness which surrounded him.

They had only done this once before with Sherlock topping between John’s legs; John had positioned himself correctly and lubed up his thighs to allow Sherlock the opportunity to take his pleasure but the younger man had managed one shaky thrust before spilling himself unexpectedly between John’s thighs. His breathing panting and desperate,

Tonight would be no different; Sherlock pushed himself into the firm hold of John twice, staggered and shaky thrusts until he had cried out with his peak and covered John in a huge load, soaking the older man with sticky fluid. John stayed still as Sherlock rested momentarily before pulling away and grabbing the towel, he cleaned John carefully and threw the towel to the floor before helping an exhausted doctor onto his back.

The pair giggled happily as they arranged themselves into one another’s arms to sleep; a chime from the bedside table bringing them from their afterglow bliss.

**Finally. Perhaps I can finally get some rest. Honestly Sherlock, such noise – MH**

Sherlock flushed red and passed the phone to John who burst into deep belly laughs as he imagined Mycroft attempting to sleep with a pillow over his head. Sherlock followed John’s example and started to laugh, composing a reply,

**Perhaps you should find somebody in which to make _noises_ with brother mine. Does wonders for the mind – SH**

The duo heard the sound of Mycroft’s phone chirping from the room next door and waited for a reply;

**Don’t be twee Sherlock. I’m perfectly happy as I am – MH**

**I’m sure. Anyway, if you don’t mind we’re going to get some rest. Fantastic orgasms drain you – SH**

**You are an animal Sherlock Holmes. – MH**

Sherlock passed the phone to John who giggled and replaced it on the bedside table as the pair snuggled naked and sated into the bed.

‘Goodnight, Sherlock.’ John whispered, kissing Sherlock’s head.

‘Night, John.’ Sherlock replied sleepily before falling asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘I’m sorry I don’t speak French’ John mumbled
> 
> ‘It’s a good job… my Grand Mère can be rather… feisty’ Mycroft added ‘she commented on your devilishly handsome face and good manners’
> 
> ‘Oh’ John blushed and smiled ‘thank you’
> 
> I wouldn’t mind letting him get his doctors hands on me Evelyn whispered in French, surprising the family once more I wonder if he still has the army uniform
> 
> Sherlock choked on his tongue and stared at his grandmother with huge eyes as he blushed and looked away with a shy contented grin. John stood looking confused at Sherlock’s reaction but it was soon forgotten as the family reverted back to English.
> 
> ‘So my darling Lockie, come and tell me all about your adventures’ Evelyn suggested as she took a seat and crossed her legs gracefully ‘It is so very interesting’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Granny Evelyn Holmes. 
> 
> Not smutty. Angst to come.

Sherlock was awake before dawn; he sat on the padded sill of his window and looked out over the grounds of his old home watching as the birds fluttered around the tree tops and the sun rise slowly over the horizon. He turned back to look at his lover still sleeping, John’s face was sleep slack and peaceful as he snored lightly. The older man was lying on his front, hugging a pillow close as though it was Sherlock’s body.

Sherlock smiled and felt the first tendrils of contentment rise in his stomach; their foray into sexual experimentation had gone better than Sherlock had expected as John had allowed him to lick and suck at his most intimate areas. Sherlock found that he hadn’t thought of Victor at all during the session, normally he would be second-guessing himself, wondering if he was doing it right or if he would be punished but being with John was infinitely different. Sherlock could relax and enjoy their exploratory lovemaking without guilt or self-hatred; he looked down at his stomach which had slightly plumped out, running his fingers over the skin he forced away the panic of his issues shouting in his brain and remembered John’s smile, the way his eyes lit up whenever Sherlock finished his food.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car approaching the house on the crunchy gravelled driveway; he watched as the sleek black car ( _one of Mycroft’s it would seem)_ stop outside the door. The driver quickly opened the backseat door and offered his hand to the elderly passenger who shooed him away and climbed from the seat herself, standing straight and proud she walked to the front door and entered without ceremony.

Sherlock grinned; he had missed his grandmother terribly.

* * *

 

Evelyn Holmes was a spritely 95 year old with a penchant for fine food, good wine and better company. Her life was based in Paris, however, she tried to return to Britain occasionally, spending time with her son and grandchildren; a child of a minor noble family she had married Gerald’s father and raised a family in a modest manor in Suffolk. When the children had grown and had families of their own, Evelyn and her husband moved to France to run a small high-end antique store.

Sherlock dressed in his finest clothes and checked his reflection; he looked over at John who fiddled with his tie nervously and smiled before rechecking his reflection,

‘Do I look okay?’ John asked tugging at the offending fabric which was wrapped around his neck ‘I hate wearing these things’

‘You look very handsome’ Sherlock blushed, moving to press a kiss on John’s forehead and slap the doctor's hands away from his tie.

‘How are you feeling?’ John asked concerned, ‘Not too overwhelmed?’

‘No. Not really’ Sherlock gulped ‘little anxious’

‘Understandable’ John nodded ‘Shall we?’

Sherlock inhaled shakily and checked himself a final time before leaving his bedroom and walking downstairs hand in hand with his lover. The hallway was deserted as the men made their way into the sitting room where the Holmes family were all sitting drinking tea from fine porcelain china.

‘ _Grand Mère_ _’_ Sherlock spoke confidently as he rounded the corner and looked down at the elderly lady sitting between Mycroft and Violet.

‘Ahhhh Lockie!’ Evelyn cried as she looked over at her youngest grandson ‘how you’ve grown!’

Sherlock blushed and nodded as his grandmother pinched his cheeks and cooed over his perfectly coiffed curls ‘ _Grand Mère_ this is my partner Dr John Watson’ Sherlock smiled as he looked over at the blonde man’s smile ‘John Watson, my _Grand Mère_ Evelyn’

‘Come now’ Evelyn scolded ‘No need to be so formal! This is a happy occasion’ Evelyn grinned a smile of pure dazzling white teeth ‘a pleasure to meet you, John’

John bent slightly and kissed Evelyn on the cheek as the older lady giggled girlishly and blushed ‘Oh Dr Watson’

John listened confused as Evelyn began to speak in French which was promptly answered by both Mycroft and Sherlock; John stared as Sherlock blushed crimson and lowered his head.

‘I’m sorry I don’t speak French’ John mumbled

‘It’s a good job… my _Grand Mère_ can be rather… feisty’ Mycroft added ‘she commented on your devilishly handsome face and good manners’

‘Oh’ John blushed and smiled ‘thank you’

 _I wouldn’t mind letting him get his doctors hands on me_ Evelyn whispered in French, surprising the family once more _I wonder if he still has the army uniform_

Sherlock choked on his tongue and stared at his grandmother with huge eyes as he blushed and looked away with a shy contented grin. John stood looking confused at Sherlock’s reaction but it was soon forgotten as the family reverted back to English.

‘So my darling Lockie, come and tell me all about your adventures’ Evelyn suggested as she took a seat and crossed her legs gracefully ‘It is so very interesting’

* * *

 

Sherlock and John sat for an hour regaling the older Holmes members of their exploits in London; They discussed the cases they had solved, the people they had saved and sadly some of those they hadn’t. They talked about Lestrade and his team, discussed Molly Hooper and her ability to find the most disgusting specimens for Sherlock to experiment on and even found time to praise Mycroft who stood at the window trying desperately to hide a satisfied grin.

Evelyn sat enraptured as she listened to Sherlock excitedly talk about his life; his eyes sparkling whenever he looked at John or talked about his lover’s brilliance and caring. They avoided the topic of John shooting the cabbie and his illegal firearm but Sherlock ensured that the family knew just how often John saved his hide.

‘I rather think John Watson that you have been a good influence on my darling Lockie’ Evelyn smiled, her eyes gleaming as she looked down at Sherlock who sat on the floor, sprawled like a Roman Emperor awaiting somebody to feed him grapes.

‘It’s not all one-sided’ John admitted ‘He’s done a lot to help me too. My life wasn’t in the best place before we met and with the PTSD I was really struggling to survive. Meeting him and helping with the cases has changed my life completely’

‘And you’re in love’ Evelyn added with a twinkle,

Sherlock and John cleared their throats nervously and looked around; they had expressed their love to one another but never in front of anybody else.

‘Forgive me’ Evelyn blushed ‘I speak without thinking’

‘No. There’s nothing to be forgiven’ John smiled softly ‘truth is, I’m besotted and can see myself spending the rest of my life with him’

Sherlock stared wide-eyed at his lover before blinking away tears rapidly as he cleared his throat and agreed with the sentiment. Mycroft rolled his eyes from the window and both Violet and Evelyn made ‘aww’ noises softly,

‘Lockie dear? Would you be a love and ask the staff for fresh tea? This one has over brewed’ Evelyn complained as she looked into the pot ‘there’s a good lad for your old gran’

Sherlock stood without complaint and left the room to find the staff leaving John alone with the Holmes family for the first time;

‘He’s not an idiot so I’ll be quick’ Evelyn smiled ‘I’m so happy to see that looking much better than last time I saw him’

John nodded and took a sip of his drink before speaking ‘It’s been hard. He’s a stubborn man and he still has a lot of leftover issues but he’s getting there’

‘And the drugs?’ the older Holmes asked quizzically,

‘Not for a long time, totally clear and clean’ John smiled proudly ‘he’s so stubborn he won’t even take paracetamol’

Evelyn smiled and nodded ‘He means the world to me. Both my grandchildren do’

‘I can see that’ John nodded in reply

Sherlock returned to the sitting room and moved to his original place on the floor as one of the staff came through with a fresh pot of tea and cream,


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock locked himself into a room with his grandmother to discuss his feelings on Victor and his effects on Sherlock’s life; John stayed with Mycroft, the pair sharing a drink in the study.
> 
> ‘You make him happy’ Mycroft smiled softly, emotion lingering in his blue eyes as he settled them onto John.
> 
> ‘I hope so’ John replied with a frown, taking a deep sip of his scotch and wincing as it burnt its way down into his stomach ‘What about you Mycroft?. Why have you never found anybody?’
> 
> Mycroft looked shocked at John’s nerve to ask such a personal question but gave in; he realised he could trust the doctor and he hadn’t had a confidant in many years.
> 
> ‘I find it hard to trust’ Mycroft admitted with a blush ‘seeing Sherlock go through his relationship, seeing what an average person could put him through with an intellect which rivalled mine… it scared me truthfully’ he took a swig of his own drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty angst.

Sherlock watched anxiously as the staff entered with the platters of food; his stomach grumbled hungrily as he smelt the intoxicating scent of his favourite meats and vegetables being cooked the way he remembered as a child. The table was set with the fine silver which automatically made John feel nervous as he looked down at a dinner set which probably cost more than his first car. He felt Sherlock grip his thigh reassuringly and relaxed as Sherlock smiled at him before he was served by the kitchen staff who silently plated up the food before removing themselves.

‘Id like to propose a toast’ Evelyn smiled as she stood, ‘To love, happiness and crime-fighting’

The Holmes family giggled and cheered along with John who blushed and looked over at Sherlock who was also flushed; the family sat down to eat and drink their fill, purposefully ignoring Sherlock picking at his food and eating small bites carefully. Mycroft and Gerald began discussing politics which immediately had Evelyn tutting and commenting in French at her son's political views and scolding Mycroft for being too involved in a governmental scandal. Mycroft smiled and allowed his grandmother to chastise him playfully;

The meal continued with laughter and good company until the main meal was finished and cleared away; dessert was brought out and the family sat eating the deliciously rich chocolate pudding. Violet began to talk about a friend of a friend who had recently lost her daughter in an automobile accident after the girl had been travelling too long without a break and sadly fell asleep at the wheel. The family ooh and ahhed at the person’s misfortune as John listened impassively, watching Sherlock enjoying his dessert.

‘I suppose you never know what’s going to happen, take Victor for example’ Evelyn began ‘I’m sure when he climbed into the driver’s seat he didn’t expect the accident, however, I have very limited sympathy for those who choose to drink and drive’

All air from the room seemed to have been sucked out as the Holmes family stared at Evelyn and then at Sherlock who sat wide-eyed and shocked at the realisation; John’s eyes skimmed Sherlock’s facial features and found nothing but catatonic shock.

‘Sherlock’ Mycroft began, glaring at his grandmother and clearing his throat.

‘Victor’s dead?’ Sherlock whispered ‘when?’

Evelyn realised her mistake and looked on horrified as Sherlock’s eyes filled with tears ‘Oh my love, I’m sorry. I didn’t know’

‘It’s okay Grand Mère _’_ Sherlock mumbled ‘I’m okay’

Mycroft took a deep sip of his wine and began to speak ‘He died whilst you were at the inpatient facility. I didn’t want to upset your recovery and then when you were released… it had been forgotten by the papers and I didn’t want you to relapse so we didn’t tell you’

John ground his teeth together and reached for Sherlock’s hand ‘Sherlock, do you want to take a minute?’

‘You should have told me’ Sherlock whispered tearfully to his brother as he stood shakily from his chair followed by John who trailed him outside the dining room and outside on to the driveway.

‘Sherlock’ John soothed ‘Will you be okay?’

‘I—I think I need some time’ Sherlock whispered sadly ‘I’m going for a walk’

‘Okay, do you want company or…’ John trailed off watching as Sherlock shook his head and took off towards the Manor’s orchards.

* * *

 

Sherlock wished that Redbeard was with him; he wished that he could revert back to his seven-year-old self and run around the grounds with his trusty companion, collecting worms and dragonflies in bottles to show Mycroft who would teach him things about them. He wished that he didn’t have to be a grown-up, he didn’t want to deal with these feelings which spun around his head wildly and made him feel dizzy and nauseous.

Victor was dead. Long dead. Nothing but bones and dirt in an old wooden box.

Sherlock walked through the Orchard and ran his fingers over the bumpy bark of his favourite apple tree where he and Redbeard would picnic whilst Cook picked the best apples to make pies and jams.

The detective had never felt so alone and vulnerable as he did at that moment; walking through the orchard alone and dejected away from his family and his lover. Trying to make sense of the grief he was feeling for somebody who tortured and abused him for so many years, somebody who he hated and despised.

Sherlock took off his shoes and suit jacket and began to run; he had no destination in mind he just ran until he felt nauseous and he had a stitch from exercising so soon after eating. He ran and ran, hoping the breeze would blow away the bad feelings.

He stopped outside the stables where the family’s horses were nuzzling at hay bales and watching him quizzically. He smiled as he walked to his father’s prize-winning horse and began saddling it quickly and efficiently, his nimble fingers seemingly remembering how exactly to work the various buckles and snaps until the horse was ready. Sherlock boosted himself up onto the horses back and pushed the animal into a trot out of the stable and through the field until he was able to kick the horse into a gallop. His hair blowing in the wind as he screamed and cried out in anger and frustration as the horse continued on regardless.

* * *

 

‘Do you think he’ll be okay?’ Mycroft asked nervously,

‘It’s been a long time since he died Mycroft’ John hissed ‘you probably should have told him… should have at least told me. I could have broken it to him easier’

‘I didn’t want him to know at all’ Mycroft admitted ‘after what happened with the flat I was worried what he may do’

‘What flat?’ John asked confused ‘I think you should tell me everything’

Mycroft nodded and croaked ‘yes, I think I better had’

* * *

 

Sherlock climbed down from the horse's saddle at the water’s edge; the Holmes manor had a small stream which ran down through one of the fields where Sherlock and Mycroft would often come looking for frogs or insects. Letting the horse drink, Sherlock sat on the riverside and looked out over the seemingly endless fields of the manor as he remembered Victor and his last conversation.

‘You shouldn’t go’ Victor insisted,

‘My Grandmother is visiting for the first time in almost ten years. I need to see her’ Sherlock insisted, packing away his meagre belongings as he packed for his family visit.

‘What should I do without you here?’ Victor pouted ‘I’m going to be all alone’

‘It’s only for the weekend’ Sherlock groaned ‘you’ll hardly know I’m gone’

Victor walked to Sherlock and began nuzzling his nose and lips over the soft spot behind Sherlock’s ear; his tongue lapping out and drawing symbols onto the skin ‘I’ll miss you’

‘I’ll miss you too’ Sherlock groaned, his cock filling out in his pants ‘but I need to go’

‘You can’t love me’ Victor whined low ‘I love you so much that I can’t imagine leaving you for an hour but you’re willing to leave for days?’

‘It’s not like that’ Sherlock insisted, his brain muddled by the emotion and sentiment which Victor was showing.

‘You could stay here, we could watch a film or have an early night’ Victor winked licentiously ‘I’ll take you to bed and we can make love’

Sherlock narrowed his eyes suspiciously; they had never made love before. Their sex sessions had always been rough and almost painful experiences.

Victor noticed the look of suspicion and immediately changed tack; his lips curling into a snarl as he grabbed Sherlock’s hair and pulled his head down to meet his eye line ‘Maybe I’ll find somebody else over the weekend. Someone less chubby. I’ll find a gorgeous slim man to sit on my cock and forget all about you locked away with your sordid inbred family home’

‘Victor’ Sherlock gasped ‘I’m coming home to you. I love you. I just need to see my family’

‘Well, don’t be surprised if I’m not here when you get back’ Victor spat angrily and turned on his heels, slamming the front door as he exited.

Sherlock listened to the stream pass by and the soft snuffling of the horse munching on grass as he reminisced. Victor hadn’t been there when he returned, however, that was due to Mycroft sending him away to a rehab centre somewhere up North where even Sherlock wasn’t aware of the location despite his blustered threats, nobody would tell him where he was. Eight weeks later when he returned home, he found that Victor was gone. His belongings still lingered in the flat and the food was still there but mouldy as Sherlock walked around heartbroken, shouting for his lover and finding no reply.

Sherlock climbed back onto the horse and once more set off on a journey across the acres of land; working muscles he had long forgotten about as he rode and rode until his thighs were chapped and sore and his mind was clear.

* * *

 

John waited at the entrance to the house; he had stopped pacing due to the ache in his feet and had reverted to standing straight and sharp whilst waiting for Sherlock to return. He heard a soft crunching get louder and looked over to see his lover;

Sherlock was in socks, trousers and a white shirt which was almost translucent with sweat. His hair stuck to his head in damp curls and his cheeks were pink and flushed from exertion.

‘Sherlock?’ John whispered walking over and putting a hand on Sherlock’s upper arm ‘are you okay?’

‘Fine John’ Sherlock smiled ‘I actually feel okay’

* * *

Sherlock locked himself in a room with his grandmother to discuss his feelings on Victor and his effects on Sherlock’s life; John stayed with Mycroft, the pair sharing a drink in the study.

‘You make him happy’ Mycroft smiled softly, emotion lingering in his blue eyes as he settled them onto John.

‘I hope so’ John replied with a frown, taking a deep sip of his scotch and wincing as it burnt its way down into his stomach ‘What about you Mycroft?. Why have you never found anybody?’

Mycroft looked shocked at John’s nerve to ask such a personal question but gave in; he realised he could trust the doctor and he hadn’t had a confidant in many years.

‘I find it hard to trust’ Mycroft admitted with a blush ‘seeing Sherlock go through his relationship, seeing what an average person could put him through with an intellect which rivalled mine… it scared me truthfully’ he took a swig of his own drink.

John nodded and pondered for a moment ‘I may overstep the boundary here Mycroft, but it’s in good faith’ John waited for Mycroft to nod his consent to continue.

‘Life is too short’ John shrugged ‘I know this, Sherlock knows this. When you’re old and on your death bed do you want to look back and think of a life half lived? Despite your job, the immense pressure on you, you deserve somebody to come home to’

Mycroft looked stunned for a moment before nodding ‘I understand’

‘ _Live for the moment_ and all that bollocks’ John laughed but Mycroft was already miles away in his own version of his mind palace.

‘Bloody Holmes’’ John groaned and finished his drink.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘What are you going to do about yours and Victors flat?’ John asked, watching Sherlock sit up and stare down at John.
> 
> ‘It’s not mine and Victors’ Sherlock replied shocked ‘It hasn’t been mine and his for a long time. Baker Street is mine and yours, I don’t have another home’
> 
> John felt his heart swell with pride as he pulled Sherlock down for a chaste kiss ‘any ideas what you want to do?’
> 
> ‘None’ Sherlock admitted with a shrug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter based on a song, I love it and the lyrics are so very perfect for these two soppy idiots. 
> 
> Song is linked,

John ran a hot bath for Sherlock as the detective sat staring unseeing out of the window once more as he wandered the halls of his mind palace. There wasn’t much of Victor in there; he was mostly hidden in the basement where Sherlock didn’t venture.

‘Sherlock?’ John whispered, stroking his hands calmingly up and down Sherlock’s arms ‘Your bath is ready’

Sherlock snapped back to reality and smiled softly at his lover; pressing a soft kiss onto John’s knuckles as he stood and quickly undressed. John had managed to connect his iPod to the speakers they had brought with them and set his music on shuffle to allow Sherlock to relax and soak. The doctor had added a small amount of expensive bath milk which caused the smell of cinnamon and cloves to linger in the air. John ensured that Sherlock was comfortable before leaving the detective alone in peace.

Minutes passed by without Sherlock realising; his mind soaking in the relaxing atmosphere of his elegant bathroom. A [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbUfDXrWgbs) which he didn’t recognise clicked onto the speakers and Sherlock found himself listening to the lyrics carefully;

 _If I should die this very moment_  
_I wouldn't fear_  
 _For I've never known completeness_  
 _Like being here_  
 _Wrapped in the warmth of you_  
 _Loving every breath of you_  
 _Still in my heart this moment_  
 _Or it might burst_

Sherlock’s mind quieted as memories flooded through his brain; the memory of Sherlock and John giggling childishly against the stairway wall after the cabbie chase, the look on John’s face at Sherlock’s various deductions and the look of absolute awe whenever Sherlock solved a seemingly impossible case. Sherlock felt emotions brewing harder than ever before as the soft voice continued to sing;

 _Could we stay right here_  
_Until the end of time, until the earth stops turning_  
 _Gonna love you until the seas run dry_  
 _I've found the one I've waited for_  
 _All this time I've loved you_  
 _And never known your face_  
 _All this time I've missed you_  
 _And searched this human race_

‘John?!’ Sherlock shouted at the top of his lungs sending John rushing into the bathroom in an almost panic,

‘What’s wrong?’ the older man panted, looking around the room to check for what had caused Sherlock to shout.

‘Restart this song’ Sherlock ordered ‘Listen to it. The words’

John blinked once, twice and then shook his head as he reached up and clicked the back rewind button to replay the song. He sat on the toilet lid and listened carefully;

‘This. This is what I wanted to say! I could never think of how to say it but she has said it perfectly’ Sherlock insisted happily ‘Do you understand?’

John nodded slowly as he focussed on the lyrics;

 _Here is true peace_  
_Here my heart knows calm_  
 _Safe in your soul_  
 _Bathed in your sighs_  
 _Want to stay right here_  
 _until the end of time_

Sherlock smiled happily and pulled John down for a tender and loving kiss; their breathing matched in a soft and perfect gesture,

  
_All I've known_  
 _All I've done_  
 _All I've felt was leading to this_  
 _All I've known_  
 _All I've done_  
 _All I've felt was leading to this_  
 _Gonna stay right here_  
 _'Till the end of time 'till the earth stops turning_  
 _I'm gonna love you 'till the seas run dry_  
 _I've found the one I've waited for_  
 _The one I've waited for_

‘When we go home… I want you to make love to me’ Sherlock whispered into John’s ear, his heart thudding rabbit quick as he spoke the words.

‘Christ, Sherlock, are you sure?’ John asked cautiously, his heart fit to burst in emotion and love.

‘Absolutely. I would do it right here, right now but I want it to be at home, our home, in our bed’ Sherlock whispered ‘John, you’ve turned me sentimental’

John giggled softly and pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s head ‘I feel the same way’

* * *

 

The pair cuddled up naked and sated after another intense mutual masturbation session in which both men slowly and delicately stroked one another; Sherlock curled up into John’s arms and allowed the older man to stroke his hair and up and down his arms, feeling each silvery scar from Sherlock’s self-harm bump under his digits.

‘Sherlock?’ John whispered into the thick bunch of curls on Sherlock’s head.

‘Yes?’ he replied softly and groggy.

‘I’m very proud of you, about today, you could have gone the other way and done something destructive but you didn’t’ John whispered ‘You’re amazing’

‘I thought about it’ Sherlock admitted ‘I wanted nothing more than to cut or purge, I wanted to stick my fingers down my throat and make myself sick, I wanted to hurt’

John bit his lip to stifle a gasp; moving his hands up and down the soft skin once more.

‘But I didn’t’ Sherlock smiled ‘I thought about you, I thought about Lestrade and Mrs Hudson, of Molly and even Mycroft’

‘That’s good. You realise that you have people who love you a lot’ John replied softly ‘I need to ask a question but you can tell me to shut up if you like if you don’t want to answer’

Sherlock nodded and braced himself for something dreadful.

‘What are you going to do about yours and Victors flat?’ John asked, watching Sherlock sit up and stare down at John.

‘It’s not mine and Victors’ Sherlock replied shocked ‘It hasn’t been mine and his for a long time. Baker Street is mine and yours, I don’t have another home’

John felt his heart swell with pride as he pulled Sherlock down for a chaste kiss ‘any ideas what you want to do?’

‘None’ Sherlock admitted with a shrug.

‘You must be exhausted’ John soothed, pulling Sherlock back down to lie on his chest ‘get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow. It’s a long way back to London’

Sherlock shuffled closer to John and buried his nose into the crease of John’s neck, smelling his lover's scent as he slowly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep nestled in the arms of his beloved.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock hailed a cab and climbed in being promptly followed by John who sat close to his lover; they clutched hands as Sherlock gave the address to the cabbie. Unknown to Sherlock, John was sending a text to Lestrade with the address and the message May need your help – JW
> 
> John received a reply from Lestrade enquiring if they were in trouble to which John replied only with Old business. Probably won’t need anything but just in case – JW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for slight violence, dubcon previous sex relationship and reference to drug needles and self-harm.
> 
> Adding this chapter and a bonus Mycroft chapter (especially for you lot, because your comments make my heart all a-flutter!)

The men returned to Baker Street and settled in for a relaxing night in together in front of the television; Sherlock laid with his head snuggled against John’s thigh as the doctor stroked his hair softly, listening to the steady breathing from his lover. Sherlock had returned home emotional and withdrawn at having to leave his grandmother but the pair had promised to keep in frequent touch including visiting Paris within the next year when Sherlock wasn’t overloaded with cases. John had kissed both Evelyn and Violet on the cheek and promised to take care of Sherlock to which the women emotionally nodded and waved them away. Sherlock hadn’t spoken since they left the manor.

John attempted to focus on the television; the film was something dull which he had seen before but he found he still couldn’t concentrate, the sensation of Sherlock’s heavy head resting against him closely making him want to bundle the younger man into his arms and care for him forever.

Sherlock was slowly making sense of his feelings over Victor’s death; a mixture of anger, resentment and grief pooling in his stomach mixed with the guilt of not knowing, not finding out. Sherlock cursed himself for his lack of thought as he realised he had never even googled Victor since leaving the rehab centre, he was a detective for goodness sakes, a good one, he should have been able to find out the information.

‘John?’ Sherlock croaked, his voice breaking with lack of use.

‘Hi’ John smiled down at the man, their eyes meeting for a lingering look.

‘I feel like I want to cut’ Sherlock whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

John nodded and soothed Sherlock with more gentle strokes in his hair ‘what can I do to help?’

‘I… I don’t know’ Sherlock admitted ‘I just thought maybe talking about it would help’

‘Have you tried any other techniques?’ John asked quizzically,

‘No’ Sherlock shook his head, ‘like what?’

‘I heard that some people write letters and destroy them, or scream into pillows, or hold ice cubes in their hands’ John reeled off the information ‘It just depends on what you feel up to doing’

Sherlock thought for a moment and nodded; moving to his writing desk he picked up paper and one of his pens and began to scribble onto the paper. Ignoring John completely who stayed where he was on the sofa,

‘Do I… do I address it to him?’ Sherlock asked nervously,

‘To whomever you want,’ John smiled softly ‘it’s just a way of getting your feelings out’

Sherlock nervously nibbled the end of his pen; a bad habit he had discovered at university whenever he was feeling anxious.

The younger man returned to his writing; silently scrawling onto page after page of paper as he ranted and raved at all of the terrible injustices in his life. Occasionally sniffling sadly but mostly still and perfect silence,

_Victor,_

_I am none of the things you accused me of being; I’m not a slut, I’m not a failure, I’m not unlovable and I’m not a freak. You are those things, and worse. You used me in the worst possible way imaginable whilst forcing me to believe that it was what I deserved, what I had coming to me. I have felt broken since we met, concentrating on my weight as though it was the only thing I had to keep me going. Cutting myself to allow myself to feel, isolating myself from those people around me who could have helped._

_My life is different now; you wouldn’t recognise me. I am happy, I’m healthy, I’m loved and that’s all that matters. John Watson is the best and greatest man I’ve ever met and I hate you for giving me the insecurities which stop me showing my love as an average man would to the love of his life._

_Wherever you are, I hope it hurts._

The letter continued as Sherlock angrily listed their arguments, the violent sexual experiences and traumas which Victor had imposed upon him. Eventually, Sherlock calmed and felt the first wave of serenity rush over him as his brain felt empty of emotional anger,

‘John put on your coat’ Sherlock whispered into the silence of the flat, startling John who had returned to the TV.

‘Oh? Where are we going?’ John asked quizzically.

‘Victors. I have something I need to do’

* * *

 

Sherlock hailed a cab and climbed in being promptly followed by John who sat close to his lover; they clutched hands as Sherlock gave the address to the cabbie. Unknown to Sherlock, John was sending a text to Lestrade with the address and the message **May need your help – JW**

John received a reply from Lestrade enquiring if they were in trouble to which John replied only with **Old business. Probably won’t need anything but just in case – JW**

The cab pulled to a stop outside a ramshackle apartment complex which twenty years ago may have been modern but now looked tired and worn down. Sherlock paid the cabbie and exhaled as he stood on the pavement and looked up at the building, one hand entwined in John’s whilst the other held onto his pocketed letter to Victor’s ghost.

John allowed himself to be dragged into the lobby and into the lift which smelt strongly of stale urine and cider. Neither man spoke as they climbed to the right floor and exited the lift, Sherlock leading to way to a nondescript door and taking out his keys ( _not his house keys, John noticed. A separate set)_

Sherlock unlocked the door and took a deep breath as he pushed open the wood and stepped into his old home; everything was as he left it including the old photographs and locks on the kitchen cupboards causing John to look around wide-eyed and furious.

‘Do you want me to stay?’ John asked softly, his voice an emotional whisper.

‘Yes,’ Sherlock nodded ‘Please. I want to show you everything’

John bit his lip and nodded as Sherlock closed the door behind them and walked John through to the small living room which still housed 1990’s furniture and an old TV set. John looked at each framed photo and studied the faces,

Sherlock was younger, a lot younger. His hair was long and almost to his shoulders as he smiled with a wide grin and blown pupils; John recognised that Sherlock was probably high in the photo.

‘Rave. 1994’ Sherlock nodded towards the picture ‘High on E’s and Acid’

‘Lovely’ John grimaced

The next picture was a much older print of a young boy holding a baby. John stared at the photo until the features stood out as a much smaller and innocent Mycroft holding a startled looking Sherlock. John chuckled and picked up the picture ‘Is this you?’

Sherlock smiled and nodded ‘I forgot about this one’

‘You were an adorable child’ John cooed

‘I want to take that one home’ Sherlock insisted taking the photo from John’s hand and placing it on the arm of the sofa to take away with them.

The final photo was the picture of a flushed Sherlock grinning into the camera beside a brown haired, green-eyed man of roughly the same age. John looked at Sherlock who nodded ‘Victor’

John stared at the man he had come to hate from afar; despite the man being dead almost twenty years John felt a rush of anger and rage knowing that if Victor had been alive, John would have killed him with his bare hands.

‘Don’t think that’ Sherlock said from across the room ‘You’re better than that’

John put down the frame and moved to Sherlock’s side as they entered the small bathroom where Sherlock had spent most of his time curled up by the basin. Opening the bathroom cupboard he pulled out his self-harm kit and handed it to his lover carefully ‘to take home. I want to keep it but not use it’

John nodded and moved to place it on top of the framed photo of the siblings before returning to Sherlock’s side.

‘It seems so pathetic now’ Sherlock whispered looking around the small bathroom ‘how much of my life I wasted in these four walls’

John reached for Sherlock and pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead before pulling away to give the detective some space to breathe. Sherlock exhaled shakily and moved from the bathroom to the door of the bedroom,

John followed Sherlock as he opened the room and clicked on the light, illuminating the green painted walls in light as they entered. Sherlock sat on the old bed and pointed to a cupboard at the end of the bed ‘that one’

The older man nodded and moved to pull out the drawer, bringing it to the mattress and tipping the contents onto the duvet before gasping at the supplies inside.

Most of the sex toys were homemade. Layer after layer of duct tape wrapped around something the size of John’s wrist made him wince and look to Sherlock for clarification.

‘Dildo’ Sherlock blushed and looked away.

‘Fucking hell’ John raged as he threw the item back onto the bed and picked up the next one. A black leather type handle complete with knotted leather tendrils ‘tell me this isn’t what I think it is’

‘Whip’ Sherlock shrugged,

Along with these there were also a selection of horrific DIY store purchases including chain link ( _dog collar. Literally),_ Parcel tape ( _to gag Sherlock, or sometimes if Victor was being cruel, to wrap his entire head in the sticky plastic),_ Various ropes which were absolutely not suitable for sex play and garden canes of multiple sizes, some coated with what looked like dried blood.

John’s stomach rolled and he seriously thought he would vomit as he looked down at the torture implements in front of him.

A pair of metal handcuffs hung from the headboard of the bed along with a half empty bottle of cheap lubricant on the bedside table and two empty drug needles.

‘Sherlock, this is horrible’ John sniffed, emotion bubbling to the surface ‘my poor love’

Sherlock screwed his eyes closed and inhaled and exhaled a few times before standing and holding John’s hand tightly as they walked to the only place left in the house. The kitchen.

Each cupboard was still padlocked with the original metal locks which Victor had applied, Sherlock had never found the keys and although he could have picked them, he was always too scared in case Victor came back and punished him.

John felt it was too much; his tears breaking free and streaming down his cheeks as he grabbed Sherlock for a tight and loving hug. He momentarily worried that he may break the detective with the strength in which he was holding his lover but he needed and wanted to show Sherlock that he was there, that he would love him regardless.

Sherlock returned the embrace before reaching for the letter in his pocket and half a block of blu-tack. He attached the handwritten pages to the locked cupboards and moved to the storage cupboard beside the fridge.

‘Sherlock?’ John asked quizzically as he saw Sherlock bend and pick up a large sledgehammer from the cupboard. The detective looked in his own universe as he walked towards the cupboards and brought the hammer arching in the air until it struck the wooden doors with a splintering crash.

John watched as Sherlock swung again and again; his hits knocking the cupboards from their mounting on the wall to fall to bits on the floor along with the ripped and torn letters which fluttered beside Sherlock’s feet. Pieces of plaster and food splatted onto the lino floor and Sherlock’s trouser legs but he didn’t stop, hitting the wood harder and harder, faster and faster. His breathing becoming heavier and more frenzied as he raised the hammer above his head and brought it onto the worktop with a crunch, a scream escaping his lips as John watched the love of his life demolish a terrible part of his history.

Sherlock was sweating and crying; every muscle ached in his body and his eyes stung from the tears but he was almost like a man possessed. Blow, after blow ripped the kitchen apart as Sherlock seemingly unseeing, broke apart the entire room,

The kitchen stood in pieces; food, wood and plaster covered the floor shortly followed by Sherlock’s sledgehammer which landed with a heavy thud onto the lino. Sherlock stood shaking, his body thrumming with tension before he fell to the floor in a heap, his chest heaving as he sobbed huge body wracking gasps. John rushed to his partner’s side and grabbed him in a bear hug, sitting himself down and pulling Sherlock to sit on top of him; Sherlock’s bum in the space made by John’s thighs as John cradled Sherlock closely, whispering nonsense words of comfort to the distraught man atop him.

‘Fuck you’ Sherlock whispered to nobody in particular ‘ _fuck you fuck you, fuck you_.’

John stayed silent; rocking Sherlock back and forth and kissing his hair until Sherlock was silent and only the occasional sniff escaped his lips.

‘Let’s go home John’ Sherlock whispered


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg looked nervous and rubbed the back of his head as he looked Mycroft up and down. The politician looked totally different out of his suit,
> 
> ‘I erm… I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?’ Greg asked with a blush,
> 
> ‘Not at all’ Mycroft added with a confused look ‘exercising’
> 
> ‘I see’ Greg looked away again ‘I’ll leave you to your… company’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft's bit! I do so love this man.

Mycroft clicked up the speed on his treadmill as he worked out for the first time over the weekend; the added calories from mummy’s home cooked roast and the delicious pudding meant that he had to put a little extra work in to ensure his tailored suits still fit. The music in the background was something up-tempo and jaunty, he recognised it as [Peggy Lee](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sE73giFnLBs) and smiled as he picked up the pace, running harder until sweat poured down his forehead and stung his eyes.

The doorbell interrupted him causing Mycroft to startle slightly and clicked the CD off along with the treadmill as he grabbed a towel and wiped the back of his neck and forehead. He walked on slightly shaky legs to the front door and opened to see who was visiting.

‘DI Lestrade?’ Mycroft asked quizzically, his eyebrows pulled into a frown ‘how can I help?’

Greg looked nervous and rubbed the back of his head as he looked Mycroft up and down. The politician looked totally different out of his suit,

‘I erm… I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?’ Greg asked with a blush,

‘Not at all’ Mycroft added with a confused look ‘exercising’

‘I see’ Greg looked away again ‘I’ll leave you to your… company’

Mycroft attempted to work out Greg’s cryptic conversation and shook his head ‘I don’t understand’

‘Well… you’re flushed and sweating… and your shirt’ Greg blushed ‘Sorry’

Mycroft looked down at his shirt and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline ‘Oh goodness no. Detective Inspector I was working out… this was a gift from Sherlock and John’ Mycroft cursed his decision to wear his ‘ _suck me ’t_ -shirt on today of all days. The day when the dishy, silver fox from the Yard had come for a visit,

‘Oh. I see.’ Greg smiled with something like relief ‘May I come in?’

‘Please,’ Mycroft gestured for Greg to enter, feeling slightly off-kilter at having somebody in his own dwelling rather than be at theirs. It seemed far more intimate.

‘There was a disturbance call from an apartment block in the East End’ Greg spoke softly but clearly as he looked around the sumptuous décor of Mycroft’s study as the politician poured them both tea and motioned for Greg to take a seat.

‘Intriguing but not in my interest’ Mycroft smiled courteously

‘It is when it’s Sherlock causing the disturbance’

Mycroft’s face fell as he looked over at Greg ‘Is he being charged?’

Greg shook his head ‘Pulled some strings. Got Sherlock working on some of their sergeant’s cold cases after a few weeks of holiday’

‘I see. Thank you’ Mycroft said genuinely ‘I’m thankful my brother has a friend like you’

‘I could be your friend too’ Greg smiled shyly.

Mycroft stopped sipping his drink and scrutinized Greg carefully, deducing him as quickly as possible.

_Smokes and drinks too much, doesn’t sleep enough, lives in a small flat alone, divorced (cheating spouse who has full custody of their child), bi-sexual, enjoys Rugby and Snooker._

‘God, you and Sherlock have the same look on your face when you do that’ Greg laughed ‘It’s eerie’

‘Apologies’ Mycroft grimaced ‘Tell me DI Lestrade. Would you like to accompany me to dinner?’

Greg blushed and ran his hand along his jawline feeling the two-day stubble as he looked at the man in front of him ‘I really would’


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this one, next one will be smutty!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this one, next one will be smutty!

John carried the photo frame and shaving kit full of self-harm supplies into Baker Street and placed them carefully onto the kitchen table as he helped Sherlock sit himself down on the sofa; the doctor helped the younger man out of his coat and shoes before pulling his legs up under him and wrapping a blanket around Sherlock’s shoulders,

‘Do you want something to calm you?’ John asked carefully ‘I have a mild sedative in my bag’

‘Could you… just cuddle me for a bit?’ Sherlock asked with a blush watching as John toed off his shoes and left his coat puddle onto the floor before climbing behind Sherlock and becoming the big spoon as Sherlock relaxed into his arms, their body heat merging as John nuzzled on the back of Sherlock’s neck.

John snuggled closer to Sherlock; their fingers entwining beneath the blanket and resting over Sherlock’s navel softly. Neither spoke, instead listened to the sound of the bustle of London through the windows, the soft sound of Mrs H humming as she baked, the radio playing from next door. The two men enjoyed the contented silence,

They fell asleep peacefully; their emotional turmoil forgot as they fell asleep in one another's arms.

* * *

 

John ordered take away as Sherlock showered; cleaning away the dried on sweat and grime which had streaked his face from his demolition session. John set the table complete with tablecloth, a vase filled with flowers ( _borrowed from Mrs H)_ and a selection of sweet smelling candles as he awaited their delivery. Sherlock had claimed not to have much of an appetite after their visit to Victor’s house but John had ensured he bought all of Sherlock’s favourite dishes just in case. If all else failed, they would at least have leftovers for the next day.

The doorbell signalled the arrival of the food and John rushed down the stairs to pick up the food which teased him mercilessly with its aroma, making his mouth water as he took the stairs two at a time to get back to the flat. Dishing up the plates; he called Sherlock through and took his seat opposite the one set for his lover, his eyes flickering nervously as he licked his lips and waited.

Sherlock arrived moments later; surprise flashing in his eyes as he looked down at the spread in front of him and sat down with a smile. He lowered his eyes coquettishly and smiled at his lover as the pair began to eat in quiet contemplation,

‘Is this is the bit before the sex?’ Sherlock whispered quizzically,

John almost choked on his egg roll ‘Sorry what?’

‘The bit… in the films, there is always the romantic gesture and then the sex happens’ Sherlock explained ‘is this what this is?’

‘No. Not at all’ John mumbled.

‘Oh. Do you not want to have sex with me?’ Sherlock grumbled sadly.

‘Right. This is going too far’ John laughed ‘Yes, I want to have sex with you. A lot, more than I've ever wanted to have sex with anybody else… but I didn’t plan this _romantic gesture_ just to lure you to my bed. I just wanted to look after you’ John flushed.

Sherlock took a slow bite of his noodles and nodded slowly ‘I see’

‘Is this… okay?’ John asked nervously ‘I haven’t gone too far?’

‘No, I like it’ Sherlock smiled, a genuine grin of happiness ‘It’s just new’

John nodded happily and took Sherlock’s hand, entwining their fingers together.

‘I wonder what cases Lestrade wants me to work on’ Sherlock said excitedly ‘hopefully it’s something interesting and not infinitely tedious like the last ones’

‘He said after a few weeks holiday’ John tutted ‘don’t be getting all excited’

Sherlock rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath before flicking his phone from his pocket and calling Lestrade’s number,

‘You always text’ John grumbled watching as Sherlock held the device to his ear,

‘I need to hear his tone of voice to see if he’s lying to me’ Sherlock explained ‘I’ve told him no lower than a four’

John smiled and forked more food into his mouth listening to the ringing tone on Sherlock’s mobile. Both men looked anxious as they waited for the DI to answer; it was so unlike him to ignore the phone.

‘Sherlock hello’ Greg finally answered with a rushed voice,

‘Lestrade, what took you so long?’ Sherlock griped ‘I could have been murdered and you wouldn’t have known’

‘But you weren’t and I’m busy so what’s wrong?’ Greg asked cautiously, causing Sherlock to narrow his eyes and listen for background noise.

Greg was in a public area; there was lots of indistinct chatter and soft music playing in the background. Sherlock mumbled something about the cases but stopped immediately as he recognised one of the voices in the background. The man was speaking Italian but Sherlock knew his brother’s voice in a crowd.

‘What are you doing with Mycroft?’ Sherlock spat

‘I erm… I’m not’ Greg lied,

‘Hello, Sherlock Holmes here’ Sherlock quipped ‘Why are you with my brother?’

John began to realise the uncomfortable truth and began trying to coax Sherlock away from the phone ‘We’ll call tomorrow, it’s not important’

‘No. I need to know’ Sherlock insisted

‘We’re… having dinner’ Lestrade mumbled shyly ‘together’

‘Are you on a date with my brother?’ Sherlock said, his voice pitching higher than anticipated.

‘Er… a little bit yes’ Greg admitted ‘Do you need anything, Sherlock?’

‘Mind bleach’ Sherlock muttered ‘I need to get that mental picture from my head’

‘Imagine now how I felt getting the intimate information from you the morning of the crime scene’ Lestrade laughed ‘I’ll speak to you tomorrow. Night Sherlock’

The phone was cut off before Sherlock could reply causing him to look at John stunned;

‘My brother… and George’ he stammered

‘You mean Greg?’ John smiled,

‘That’s what I said’ Sherlock rolled his eyes ‘they’re… dating?’

‘Aww that’s sweet’ John added as he added another helping of rice to his plate ‘they both deserve someone to care for’

‘But… Mycroft…’ Sherlock croaked,

‘We had a conversation, Me and him’ John admitted with a gulp, taking a sip of beer ‘he admitted he was lonely and wanted somebody to love him the way I love you’

‘I doubt Mycroft phrased it like that’ Sherlock added with a grimace.

‘Hush, be happy for him’ John smiled, rubbing his thumb over the top of Sherlock’s hand.

‘If they invite us to double date. I will begin making a kill list starting with myself’ Sherlock groaned

John rolled his eyes and finished his beer ‘You’re so bloody dramatic’

* * *

 

John didn’t have nightmares much anymore; the feeling of Sherlock cuddled into his side during the night was often enough to calm his body and mind enough for a peaceful few hours sleep before he was awoken by the ache in his shoulder. The years of night terrors had been horrific; waking screaming and crying into the inky blackness of his bedroom alone and terrified seemed a lifetime ago which is why this nightmare came as such a surprise.

The two men had retired to bed early after their meal; Sherlock was too exhausted for sexual contact and John respected that, his own ardour cooled by the memory of the cruel and dangerous sex toys which Sherlock had been forced to endure. The pair had cuddled close and fell asleep inches away from one another, their lips breathing the same air as their noses almost touched. Sherlock snored quietly, lulling John into a deep sleep where his nightmare began.

_It was dark; his hands were bound behind his back pulling on his shoulder and forcing a pain through his entire body as he opened his eyes and looked over at Sherlock cowering on the floor. John watched as another man entered the room where they were being kept to stand over Sherlock, his arm pulled back quickly to strike Sherlock hard across those perfect cheekbones which John loved to kiss and caress._

_‘He’ll never be yours’ the voice spoke, his back still to John ‘he’ll always be mine’_

_‘No’ Sherlock mumbled, wiping the blood from his cheek ‘I’m his. I’m John’s’_

_The man turned his head, showing John his features which he recognised from the photograph. Victor stood over Sherlock with a grim smile as he forced Sherlock to his feet,_

_‘You’ll always be mine’ he spoke again ‘I was here first’_

_John fought against his bonds as Sherlock was punched again and again, each hit interspersed with vile comments about Sherlock’s weight, about his sexual history and drug abuse. John tried to kick out, tried to free himself to save his lover who looked on with sad eyes, pleading with John to save him but John couldn’t move._

_‘I’ll always be here’ Victor sneered ‘Always’_

_John watched in horror as Victor turned and picked up the homemade dildo; an evil gleam in his eye as he walked towards Sherlock with a confident swagger. Sherlock gave in, turning himself onto hands and knees and lowering his head with a soft whimper… John fought desperately, he needed to get to Sherlock, he needed to have him… he needed to…_

John was awakened by Sherlock gently whispering calming words; John’s eyes flickered open as he looked around Sherlock’s bedroom, finally focussing on Sherlock himself as John grabbed his lover hard forcing both men to topple from the bed onto the floor in a heap. Sherlock huffed out an _oomph_ as his back crashed onto the floor but immediately stopped the complaints when he felt John trembling and sobbing in his arms.

‘John?’ Sherlock whispered ‘are you awake’

‘Y-Yes’ John mumbled ‘S-Sherlock. Sherlock, I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be’ Sherlock soothed, his arms wrapping around John from their positions sprawled on the floor.

John looked down at himself and realised that he had wet himself in terror; it was a regular occurrence when he was having night terrors but he had never done it whilst in bed with another person. His face flushed crimson as he stammered his excuses only to be shushed by Sherlock.

‘It’s okay, don’t be embarrassed. It happens’ Sherlock soothed, stroking John’s hair from his sweaty forehead ‘You were crying out a lot. Was it the desert?’

John shook his head, the dream still vivid in his mind as he grabbed Sherlock tighter ‘Tell me you’re mine?’

Sherlock frowned, his lips pinched into a tight line as he nodded ‘Of course I am John’

‘Victor can’t have you. Not anymore. You’re mine, only mine’ John sobbed, pulling Sherlock harder to his chest ‘I can’t live without you’

Sherlock realised the situation and shushed John as he stroked up and down the older man’s back softly ‘Shhh now, it’s ok’

John could feel the sticky and uncomfortable wetness of his boxer shorts clinging to his legs; the smell of urine and sweat filling the air as Sherlock held him tightly, uncaring about the mess. John just wanted a shower and a cuppa.

‘I’ll put the kettle on’ Sherlock whispered, making John wonder yet again if the man could read minds ‘You get yourself sorted. Don’t worry about the bedding, I’ll do it’

John nodded exhausted and moved to stand up before pulling Sherlock in for a desperate kiss ‘I love you’

‘I know, I love you too’ Sherlock whispered reverently ‘come on. Let’s get sorted’

* * *

 

Sherlock changed the bedding quickly and bundled the soiled sheets into the washing machine to put on in the morning whilst John showered. The detective made tea and carried it through to the bedroom, leaving it on the bedside table as he listened to the older man shower.

Sherlock had awoken to the sounds of John whimpering, feeling the older man kicking and fighting with an imaginary foe as Sherlock attempted to calm him using the techniques which had worked in the past, soft whispers and space. He heard John calling his name as the doctor fought valiantly against his nightmare, a mixture of words spilling from John’s sleeping mouth.

_Sherlock, always, mine, no, Victor._

The last had caused a shudder to run down Sherlock’s spine as he looked at his lover fighting with the demon of Victor. He’d felt John’s bladder release as the doctor gave a loud and desperate cry, tears sliding down his cheeks as his legs kicked desperately against an unseen captor.

Then John had awoken and grabbed Sherlock toppling them from the bed.

Sherlock listened carefully as John turned off the shower and walked slowly back into the bedroom; his face sheepish as he pulled on fresh, clean underwear and climbed under the new bedding.

‘I’m sorry’ John whispered embarrassed,

‘Don’t apologise’ Sherlock insisted, swapping their usual positions so that John was resting against Sherlock’s heartbeat with the detective’s long arms wrapped around him, cocooning him in warmth and love. John shuddered through a deep exhale as he relaxed into Sherlock’s embrace

‘I love you so much’ John whispered, his voice breaking with emotion.

‘Shhhh now, just relax. I’ve got you’ Sherlock replied holding him tight until John’s breathing levelled out shortly followed by soft snores.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smutty delicious smut!
> 
> Also, this chapter includes my favourite line i've ever written.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angel delight is a sort of pudding.... It's lush http://www.rocknrollmum.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/angel-delight.jpg

The weeks which followed were calm and serene for both men who worked from home on cases which had come in over the blog since Lestrade had placed a case embargo on them. Sherlock complained bitterly at having to solve three thefts in a row yet the scolding hot mutual masturbation after the case was closed was enough to make both John and Sherlock forget how boring the case had actually been.

John texted Greg to invite him out for a drink which was immediately accepted by the DI, who arranged to meet John in the local pub nearest to the Yard since he was working,

John left Sherlock experimenting on _something_ (Sherlock had promised it wasn’t toxic or deadly which relaxed the doctor slightly) as he pulled on his coat and kissed the detective on the nose as he left the house.

‘Buy bleach, matches and Angel Delight’ Sherlock shouted after John who turned around and looked at Sherlock quizzically,

‘Angel delight? For an experiment?’ he asked,

‘No… It’s delicious’ Sherlock scoffed, rolling his eyes at John who chuckled and walked out of the flat to hail a cab to the pub.

* * *

 

The two men met and clapped one another on the shoulders as they ordered their pints and food before finding a table far enough from the other patrons to talk frankly and openly; John reassured Lestrade that Sherlock was more stable, he was happier and eating more regularly since the incident at Victor’s old flat which made Greg smile behind his pint.

‘Is he driving you mad with no cases? You want him out of your hair?’ Greg joked watching John chuckle,

‘A little bit, he gets so destructive when he’s bored. Did I tell you he’s found YouTube?’ John grimaced ‘remember a while back people discovered putting mints into cola made it explode?’

‘Vaguely’ Greg answered with a shrug.

‘I walked in to the flat to find twelve bottles of Coca-Cola each with a perfectly balanced mint above it. He wanted to measure how far the fizz went’ John laughed ‘in our living room’

‘Jesus’ Greg coughed as he tried to laugh and drink at the same time ‘what happened?’

‘I helped him move it to the front of the building. Baker Street still has foam over the kerb’ John chuckled ‘so yes, any cases which come up. He’s available’

Greg nodded and moved his hands from the table as the waitress brought over their food and condiments. John thanked her and began to tuck into his steak as Greg covered his food with ketchup.

‘Do you do that at Mycroft’s house?’ John snarked, his eyebrow raised.

‘I wondered how long it would take’ Greg rolled his eyes skyward in mock annoyance ‘tell me you don’t want us to compare notes?’

‘Christ no’ John grimaced, faking a shudder ‘I’m happy for you though mate’

Greg nodded; putting a chip into his mouth and biting into the fluffy potato ‘It’s surprisingly good so far. Hardly any drama, no awkwardness… no having to explain Sherlock’

John laughed and nodded ‘I suppose that’s a good thing’

‘Do you think Sherlock’s alright with it?’ Greg asked nervously ‘I wouldn’t want to upset him’

‘I think he was more shocked than anything’ John admitted ‘I think he saw you as Mr Average blokey-bloke, drinking lager with your rugby mates. I assume he thought you were straight’

‘He knew I was bi’ Greg shrugged ‘Was one of the first deductions he made about me, in the middle of Oxford Street, with my old beat partner. It was the first time I met him and was about to bust him for public intoxication’

‘God, that’s horrible’ John grimaced,

‘Not really, it was surprising. I was in denial about my attraction to other men’ Greg bit into another chip ‘I think he made me realise it was okay’

The two men sat and chatted together until their food was finished and their beer glass was dry. John shook Greg’s hand and bid him goodbye as they parted ways outside the pub, walking back to Baker Street feeling happy and refreshed.

* * *

 

John opened the door to Baker Street and looked in confusion at the Sherlock shaped gap at the Kitchen table; his heart began to pound as the flat was empty with no trace of Sherlock in sight. John calmed his breathing just in time to hear the downstairs door to Mrs Hudson’s flat close,

‘Hello, John’ Sherlock smiled carrying a bowl up the stairs,

‘Where were you?’ John asked worried, looking at Sherlock’s confused face as the detective passed him in the doorway.

‘Downstairs with Mrs Hudson… making Angel Delight. You took too long’ Sherlock insisted as he walked to the kitchen counter and put down the neon-filled glass bowl ‘its strawberry’

John was across the kitchen and grabbing Sherlock for a deep kiss before either man realised; John opened his mouth and let his tongue slip along Sherlock’s bottom lip until the detective gasped and met his tongue with his own. John wrapped his hands into Sherlock’s hair as Sherlock put one hand behind John’s head and one on his waist, walking them awkwardly backwards until they were at the entrance to their shared bedroom.

‘You taste of Pale ale, 4.2% and medium rare steak’ Sherlock gasped into John’s mouth as the pair finally reached the bed.

John pulled away and looked at Sherlock with a serious gaze ‘do you want me to brush my teeth?’

‘God no’ Sherlock laughed ‘It tastes of you, when you brush your teeth, it just is overwhelmingly minty’

‘So you’d rather me taste of beer and meat?’ John chuckled as he slowly began unbuttoning Sherlock’s dress shirt, noticing it was the purple one ( _John’s favourite)_ as he peeled it seductively over Sherlock’s shoulders and down his chest. Sherlock stopped the kissing to pull on John’s jumper hem, pulling it over the doctor’s head and discarding it onto the floor by their feet.

The two men stood bare-chested, kissing and caressing one another in the midday sunlight which poured through the window; John deftly opened Sherlock’s trouser button and zip, pulling them down strong thighs until they pooled around Sherlock’s socked feet. Sherlock followed John’s lead and helped John out of his denim jeans until both men were stood in only underwear.

‘Bed?’ Sherlock whispered seductively.

‘I want to taste you’ John groaned into Sherlock’s ear ‘I want to replace the taste of beer and meat for your skin and cum’

Sherlock gasped and gripped his hard cock tight; scared he may cum in his pants before John even laid a finger on him. John allowed his lover some cooling down time as they peeled off their socks and underwear and climbed naked onto the bed, Sherlock on his back with John on all fours over him, his own hard cock brushing against Sherlock’s ribcage.

John rested his forehead against Sherlock’s; taking in the moment and enjoying the intimacy between both men as Sherlock wrapped his long, callused fingers around John’s cheeks and held him close. Both men could feel the other smiling and relaxed into the moment as John began to press soft and gentle kisses across Sherlock’s cheekbones, down his nose to his perfect bow lips. Sherlock tried to pull John in for a snog only to find John pulling away, kissing the corner of his mouth and then down his chin to begin a descent down the long, pale, swan-like neck lingering momentarily at the pulse point and feeling it flutter under his lips. Sherlock wrapped his fingers into the bedding and held still as John worshipped his way down Sherlock’s throat, sucking the bobbing lump before nuzzling further down to the clavicle.

‘Mark me John’ Sherlock whispered, his voice low and hoarse ‘show everyone I’m yours’

John steeled himself before sucking a bright mark on the join between neck and collarbone. Sherlock gasped and arched into the contact his unclothed cock twitching against his lower stomach as John sucked and nibbled harder, forcing the blood to the surface. Sitting back on his heels John rested his arse over Sherlock’s cock and looked down at his handiwork, the mottled purple-red circle standing out from Sherlock’s pale skin.

Sherlock pulled John down for kisses as he rocked his hips for better friction against John’s fleshy arse, needy mewls of pleasure escaping his lips to be swallowed by John who replied in much the same way, his cock dripping onto Sherlock’s lower stomach.

John moved to lick and suck at Sherlock’s nipples, taking one peak into his mouth at a time whilst rolling the other in between his fingertips. Sherlock whimpered and arched up, copious precum streaking John’s stomach which was now pressed against the red and flushed tip of Sherlock’s prick. Sherlock gripped the bedding tighter again as John pressed kisses over the still flat ( _yet slightly healthier)_ stomach and hipbones before moving down the tops of Sherlock’s thighs.

The younger man’s thighs were marred with silver scars from years of self-harm but John thought they were beautiful regardless; his lips focussed on each one, kissing and lapping at the raised skin and whispering soft praise into the skin. John nuzzled his nose into the gap between Sherlock’s groin and thigh with a shy smile,

‘I’ve never…’ John started before trailing off.

‘I’ve never received one’ Sherlock whispered in reply ‘I wouldn’t know’

John added another reason to hate Victor before shaking the thought from his head and psyching himself up to put another man’s cock into his mouth for the first time. John tentatively extended his tongue and lapped at the weeping tip, tasting the salty and bitter precum spread over his taste buds. Sherlock had always leaked a lot during their lovemaking sessions; they had never needed lube due to the extent of Sherlock’s wetness but to John, it seemed that rivers of precum were leaking from the tip onto his tongue. He moved his hand to wrap around the head and wiped away the excess moisture before swallowing and lowering his head over the top of Sherlock’s glans.

Sherlock almost hit the ceiling.

The detective jumped and wailed as heat engulfed his cock for the first time; the first introduction of John’s tongue onto his frenulum was like an electric bolt shooting down his spine, a charge igniting every pleasurable synapse in his brain to explode at once. John gripped Sherlock’s shaft to stop the younger man spending himself immediately and began to slowly move his head up and down, he could only take a few inches before retching but remembered how much he personally enjoyed the head being stimulated whilst a fist worked his length. John rolled his hand up and down the shaft as his tongue twirled and teased the sensitive glans, sometimes pointed others flat as he licked and lapped at the skin.

Sherlock was leaking profusely now; almost choking John with his pre-spend as John worked up and down. When Sherlock was gasping and writhing, desperately mewling nonsense words John pulled away and moved to suck at Sherlock’s balls which had already drawn themselves up to Sherlock’s body tightly. By tugging and pulling at the sensitive skin, John had Sherlock an almost boneless puddle as he used his finger to press against the perineum, stimulating the prostate from the outside as he cupped his bollocks with one hand and worked his tip with his mouth.

It was too much for the younger man; the sensations firing through his brain were too plentiful to allow him to concentrate as he gasped and cursed. Words leaving his mouth he had never uttered before, begging and pleading for John to finish him, he was so close.

John smiled and with a final long suck and stroke to the sensitive frenulum Sherlock was over the edge and screaming in bliss; John pulled away and stroked Sherlock through his orgasm watching as ribbons of cum coated the detective from cheek to pubic hair, a huge amount of cum soaking onto the younger man’s body as John teased him through his peak.

Sherlock couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, and almost couldn’t breathe. His brain was offline and he felt as though he was floating through darkness; stars glittered behind his eyelids as he gasped for breaths, pulling in as much air as possible as he came back to earth with a deep, bone rattling shudder. John was already on his knees stroking himself quickly and effectively; his hand a blur as he gasped and shivered into his own release, mixing his fluid with that of Sherlock’s already covering the younger man’s clammy skin.

John fell forward and lay on his side beside Sherlock on the bed; watching nervously as Sherlock’s eyes looked dim and distant before the detective blinked and came back. His eyes glittering with clarity as the younger man turned his head and grinned wide and genuine,

‘Hello beautiful’ John whispered softly, stroking Sherlock’s cheekbone ‘back with us?’

‘Jawn’ Sherlock mumbled, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth ‘Kith me’ he lisped.

John smiled and placed a soft and gentle kiss on Sherlock’s bow lips, licking and sucking on the lower lip until Sherlock shuddered and entwined their fingers together.

‘Jawn. Thleep’ Sherlock lisped once more, his eyes already closing with exhaustion.

‘Okay okay, two seconds’ John laughed as he reached for the baby wipes and cleaned Sherlock as best he could ‘there you go. Sleep now’

‘Nigh-’ Sherlock started, falling asleep before he had even finished the word.

‘Goodnight,’ John smiled, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead.

* * *

 

**Two hours later:**

‘This is really good’ John smiled as he dipped his spoon into the fluffy Strawberry pudding contained in Mrs Hudson’s dish.

‘I told you’ Sherlock grinned as he too licked his spoon clean and dipped in for another spoonful.

John’s eye’s sparkled with mischief as he pushed his finger into the pink goo and tapped Sherlock’s nose leaving a dollop hanging from the sharp feature.

‘Argh. John. Stop that’ Sherlock complained, going cross-eyed as he watched John move closer to lick it off.

‘Delicious’ John smiled, lifting his spoon and scooping more pink from the bowl and spreading it over Sherlock’s chest and nipples to lick away.

‘Oh god,’ Sherlock groaned, his cock reacting.

‘Let’s see where else we can put this’ John grinned as he burrowed under the pillow with the sweet pudding carefully placed on the spoon.

**Less than two minutes later:**

‘That really wasn’t a good idea’ John grimaced looking down at the pink stained bedding and Sherlock’s blushing face.

‘I blame you’ the detective mumbled ‘You should have warned me’

‘I thought you knew where I was planning on putting it!’ John insisted exasperated

‘What rational minded person puts pudding on a penis?’ Sherlock gasped

‘Fine, it was my fault’ John grinned with a cheeky wink ‘at least I’ve swallowed your cum now’

Sherlock blushed crimson and hid his face behind his hands ‘John Watson, you are a deviant of the worst kind’

‘But Sherlock, you know what?’ John asked,

‘What?’ the detective replied, moving his hands away.

‘I’m _your_ deviant of the worst kind’ John smirked

‘Git’ Sherlock mumbled

‘Arse’ John laughed.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be super smutty.

**I need a favour. Can I meet you tonight? – SH**

**Of course Brother mine. I’m only here to ease your burdens – MH**

**If you’re going to be a prick, it doesn’t matter – SH**

**Forgive me, terrible meeting with the deputy PM. What an insufferable arse. 7.30 tonight at the club – MH**

**I’ll be there – SH**

* * *

Sherlock arrived at the Diogenes club slightly early; he walked to the secret entrance around the back and pressed the silent ringer listening to the soft shuffling sound of the staff walking down the thick carpeted corridor. The door opened and Sherlock was invited in and shown through the halls to Mycroft’s office where Anthea sat outside the door, her eyes glued to her Blackberry as usual.

‘Sherlock’ she nodded towards the door ‘he’ll see you now’

Sherlock looked over at Anthea and arched his brow ‘Oh Anthea. An affair? How very original’

‘Is it an affair if you’re sleeping with both parties?’ Anthea asked without looking up ‘a question for the philosophers’

Sherlock chuckled and walked through the door to Mycroft’s room; closing it behind him and taking a seat on the expensive couch which sat against the wall. Mycroft was signing his name to various documents and filing them into piles before he looked up, folding his arms and looking down at his baby brother.

‘Sherlock’ he smiled ‘what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘I want to sell Victor’s flat’ Sherlock said confidently ‘I don’t need it anymore’

Mycroft was momentarily stunned; his eyebrow raised almost imperceptively ( _to anyone else but Sherlock)_ and he nodded once ‘Very well’

‘And I want to sort out my will’ Sherlock added,

‘Your will?’ Mycroft trailed off, scanning Sherlock quickly to deduce him.

‘I’m not planning on doing myself in Mycroft’ Sherlock rolled his eyes ‘But if anything happens to me, I want John to be financially secure’

‘I see’ Mycroft nodded ‘very adult of you’

‘Piss off Mycroft’ Sherlock grumbled,

‘He’s your next of kin on all things?’ Mycroft asked, watching as Sherlock nodded.

‘I’ll have the paperwork drawn up’ Mycroft nodded ‘will that be all?’

‘I… erm… well’ Sherlock started, his face flushing and staring at the wall ‘I wanted to say I’m happy for you and Greg’

‘Oh,’ Mycroft narrowed his eyes. Sherlock hadn’t surprised him often but he had managed it twice in an afternoon. That was a new record ‘thank you’

Sherlock shrugged ‘You deserve your own goldfish’

‘Tell me something’ Mycroft entwined his fingers and placed them over his lips ‘You’ve finally gotten Gregory’s name right… why?’

‘I’ve always known it’ Sherlock scoffed ‘I just like to annoy him’

* * *

 

Months passed; summer turned to autumn and finally to winter cloaking Baker Street in a fine dusting of perfectly untouched snow as John and Sherlock walked hand in hand from their latest crimes scene. The pair were giddy and happy that they had solved the case,

‘T _he case of the unhappy snowman?’_ John suggested as a blog title.

‘No’ Sherlock grimaced,

‘ _Jingle bollocks’_ John laughed, staring at Sherlock and raising an eyebrow.

‘Absurd’ Sherlock spat trying hard not to laugh

‘ _The case of the sad, lonely bastard with nothing better to do than spoil Christmas for children’_ John added with a smile ‘I like the ring of that one’

‘He wasn’t sad’ Sherlock countered ‘If anything, he was rather happy with himself for momentarily getting away with murdering Father Christmas’

John skipped beside Sherlock attempting to keep up with the detective’s longer strides despite the ache in his leg from a well aimed kick to the shin by the criminal. Sherlock stopped outside their front door and looked at his watch,

‘Merry Christmas John’ Sherlock whispered as he pressed a loving kiss to John’s cold and chapped lips.

‘Merry Christmas, Sherlock.’ John smiled in return, snogging Sherlock passionately until the two men were panting and hard against one another in the street.

The men were startled by a group of drunken revellers across the street shouting ‘Whhheyyyy give ‘im a kiss’

‘Merry Christmas lads’ John grinned giving the men a wave and opening the front door to the flat, bundling Sherlock inside.

* * *

 

The annual Christmas party was upon them; John sat in one of his novelty jumpers talking to Lestrade who was also sporting an impressive Rudolph jumper ( _a Mrs Hudson order. She had tried for years to get Sherlock and Mycroft to wear one but neither man had given in)_ and sipping from a bottle of beer whilst Sherlock and Mycroft sat across the room playing chess silently. Brooding and ignoring the rest of the guests as they valiantly fought to win.

John rolled his eyes and gestured at the brothers which immediately set Greg off giggling drunkenly ‘You’d think they’d let it drop for one day of the year’

‘Remember last year? The _Cluedo_ incident’ John faked a shudder.

‘Oh god yeah’ Lestrade laughed ‘christ, why do we put ourselves through this?’

‘Because we love them’ John blushed, looking over at Sherlock who pondered his next move,

‘And the brilliant sex’ Greg grinned before realising his mistake ‘Oh mate I’m sorry’

‘No it’s fine’ John added checking nobody else was listening but Greg ‘We’ve done everything else… just not _that’_

Greg looked confused and narrowed his eyes ‘why?’

John blushed and looked away ‘Havent worked up the courage yet’

‘It’s not as painful as people say’ Greg mentioned before blushing crimson and clearing his throat ‘fucking hell, three beers and I turn into Cosmo magazine’

John cackled happily and relaxed into the conversation ‘After all Sherlock went through with Victor, I want to make sure he’s ready for that final step. From what I can gather and what I saw in the flat, Victor wasn’t so bothered about consent or preparation’

Greg winced and took another drink ‘ouch’

‘Yeah’ John nodded,

‘And you? You’ve never felt the urge to… take one for the team?’ Greg gestured crudely.

John blushed and looked away from his friend and over at Sherlock ‘If you’d have asked me that a year ago id have said definitely not and screamed _I'm not gay_ but now… I’m not so sure’

‘I need a smoke, you coming?’ Greg gestured to the doorway and whispering ‘away from super sharp hearing’

‘Oh’ John caught Greg’s meaning and nodded ‘yeh’

* * *

 

The two men stood outside the Baker Street door; the street was deserted and covered with inches of snow which had both men childishly kicking it at one another.

‘Listen’ Greg started and cleared his throat nervously ‘I’m not going to give you all the details or personal shit that we do in bed’ he looked up at the window to check nobody was listening ‘but bottoming isn’t as scary as you first think, so long as you’re prepared and relaxed it’s actually really nice’

‘It’s just the mental part I can’t get past’ John admitted ‘the thought that it’s an exit, not an entry’

‘Christ, you’re a doctor’ Greg laughed ‘are you telling me you’ve never had a quick feel up there?’

‘On myself or Sherlock? No’ John gasped ‘I’ve done hundreds of exams but never intimately’

‘Fuck, you’re missing out’ Greg smiled, his cheeks flushing either with cold, desire or embarrassment.

‘What about… mess?’ John whispered, hugging his arms around his chest to keep warm in the frigid air.

‘Last week, Sherlock was microwaving a monkey brain’ Lestrade said softly ‘and you got puked on by numerous kids at the clinic… you two shouldn’t be bothered by a small amount of mess’

‘True’ John nodded, suddenly feeling lighter and more cheerful ‘thanks, Greg’

‘Anytime’ Greg nodded ‘and when you finally have prostate stimulation, you can send me a fruit basket to say thank you’

John choked out a loud bark of laughter which was soon joined by Greg until the pair stood in the doorway, cackling and throwing snowballs at one another like children.

* * *

 

Sherlock played the violin as the partygoers left one by one; Mrs Hudson was first, a mixture of eggnog and her soothers leaving her dozing and snoring softly in Sherlock’s chair. Greg lifted the elderly lady carefully, carrying her downstairs and leaving Molly in charge of getting Mrs H comfy for bed and out of her Christmas jewellery ( _including the Whitby jet necklace which was commented upon by both Mycroft and Molly)._ Molly and her new lover were next to leave, their passionate necking and whispering leaving no question of what they intended to do when they managed to get home to Molly’s. Mycroft and Greg were last to leave; Mycroft had won the chess which left Sherlock sulking playfully as he played along on his violin to various Christmas carols, hymns and classical tunes.

‘We should be off’ Greg motioned to Mycroft who sat lazily in front of the fire like a lazy ginger tomcat ‘we’re picking my daughter up tomorrow and taking her to my mothers’

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and looked over at his brother ‘domesticity brother mine?’

‘Hush’ Mycroft barked ‘It’s an important time of year’

‘How on earth will the country survive with you out in the sticks and away from your post?’ Sherlock snarked,

‘I’ve warned everyone not to bother having a war until I return’ Mycroft smiled thinly.

The pair stood and shook hands with their hosts before turning to leave; Mycroft’s hand resting on the bottom of Greg’s back as they made their way downstairs and outside into the car which had been called especially to take them back to Mycroft’s townhouse. John and Sherlock waved from the window and exhaled when they finally had the flat to themselves,

‘Finally’ Sherlock complained ‘I thought they’d never leave’

‘I enjoyed it’ John smiled as he began cleaning away the various plates and glasses from the surfaces.

‘I’m sure you did, discussing anal sex with Gordon’ Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

‘Greg Sherlock, you know it’s Greg’ John scolded ‘and it was just a passing conversation’

‘Passing conversation?’ Sherlock choked ‘You were outside for at least fifteen minutes. If you wanted to know about their sexual practices I would have deduced it from the way Lestrade wears his collar’

‘For god's sake’ John laughed ‘I’m not interested in knowing, we just had a discussion’

‘and what did you find out?’ Sherlock asked, pressing himself against John’s back and kissing down the back of his neck ‘did he tell you positions? How best to stimulate yourself?’

John bit back a moan and shook his head ‘No’

‘Shame’ Sherlock smiled as he ran his nimble fingers over John’s plumping cock hidden in his trousers ‘could have been interesting’

John attempted to push back against Sherlock only to find the detective had moved away; picking at the buffet he hid a smile as John pouted and pretended he wasn’t caught out.

‘You don’t have to worry about me you know’ Sherlock said softly from across the room ‘I’m not going to freak out if you go to touch me… _there’_

‘I know that’ John soothed ‘I just wasn’t sure I was ready for that step’

‘Are you sure now?’ Sherlock asked as he strode across the room and stood opposite his lover, their hips resting against one another as Sherlock looked down at John’s flushed face,

‘I- I think so’ John stammered, blushing and nodding.

‘Then Dr Watson, take me to bed’ Sherlock whispered into the shell of John’s ear, watching the doctor shudder lustily.


	25. Chapter 25

_The two men kissed slowly and sensually as they walked together to the bedroom; John leading whilst Sherlock walked backwards carefully, their cocks slotted together for friction as they moved. They reached the bedroom and pulled apart, gasping for breath slightly as they both thought about what they were about to do;_

Sherlock helped John out of his tacky Christmas jumper whilst John stripped Sherlock naked before climbing onto the bed and pulling Sherlock on top of him with a soft smile. The pair kissed as they arranged their limbs into a comfortable position; John’s legs open enough for Sherlock to kneel between whilst the detective was able to use his hands to focus on the areas which soon had John writhing and begging for release.

The younger man kissed down John’s neck, past the row of love bites which Sherlock had marked into the skin over the last few weeks as their passions grew and become more wanton. His tongue lingered on each mark, stroking the skin and then moving down to John’s sensitive nipples. Sherlock grinned as he sucked one into his mouth and ran his tongue around in a circle, nibbling gently on the peaked nub and huffing out a laugh when John groaned low and desperate.

‘Sherlock please’ John begged ‘please...’

‘What do you want John?’ Sherlock whispered his nose rubbing over John’s scar as he looked up at his lover ‘where do you want me to touch you?’

‘Anywhere. God. Sherlock please’ John cried, his face flushed and needy.

Sherlock moved nimbly down the bed and immediately took John’s cock into his mouth; they had been indulging in oral sex for a few months now and Sherlock liked to think that he was rather good at it ( _based on John’s reactions and indicators it seemed Sherlock was brilliant at it)_ and had found ways to tease John that the doctor had never even known or experienced before. Sherlock licked his tongue in a figure of eight around John’s frenulum watching the doctor gasp and arch as Sherlock pushed more of John’s cock into his mouth.

He was still nervous about his gag reflex; he had calculated that he could take approximately 5.23 inches into his throat before the urge to vomit was too much. Sherlock focused his mind and calmed his thoughts as he opened his throat passage and swallowed as much of John as he could before hiking John’s legs over his shoulders and pulling his knees closer to John’s chest as he exposed the small hole between John’s cheeks.

Sherlock loved rimming; he loved tasting John’s pure skin, knowing that he was the only one to have ever given him that pleasure before was heady and arousing. Watching John slowly unravelling under Sherlock’s tongue was a delicious treat as John was normally so well put together and _normal._ Sherlock licked along the puckered hole, tasting the mixture of sweat, soap and fabric softener from John’s underwear as he circled his tongue around the opening, feeling the muscles twitch and clench desperately seeking more.

John gripped the headboard tightly as Sherlock worked his opening with his tongue; the doctor still felt dirty for enjoying the intense sensation but decided that he couldn’t care less. Sherlock loved the experience and John had never experienced anything as pleasurable as the feeling of Sherlock licking and nibbling at his rim,

Sherlock grabbed for John’s arms and placed them onto the doctor’s knees insisting that the doctor hold himself open whilst Sherlock moved a hand to wrap around John’s shaft; stroking up and down in time with his kitten licks. John felt exposed but aroused as Sherlock combined both sensations to create a dizzying feeling,

‘P-Put a finger in’ John whispered

Sherlock pulled his head away and looked at John with a serious look on his face ‘are you sure?’

John nodded and released one leg to reach into the bedside table and pull out one of the stolen sachets of plain lube he had taken from the surgery. Sherlock took the offered package and sat back on his heels, looking down at a blushing and visibly nervous John,

‘We don’t have to’ Sherlock mumbled, his own hands suddenly shaking.

‘I want to try’ John shrugged ‘Let’s just try’

Sherlock nodded and tore open the sachet and coated his fingers with the slick liquid before pouring some directly down John’s crack and over his aching cock. John hissed as the cool gel hit his hot flesh and closed his eyes as Sherlock began to probe at his opening softly,

‘Tell me what to do’ Sherlock whispered nervously, biting his bottom lip.

‘Run your finger around the hole’ John replied, gasping at the sensation when the callused pad of Sherlock’s index finger traced over the sensitive area. Sherlock watched John’s face carefully as he followed the instruction,

‘Once it’s relaxed’ John panted ‘just push very slowly inside, a bit at a time’

Sherlock nodded and continued stroking his finger around and around, his other hand moving to grip John’s cock and stroking it to take the doctor’s mind off the probing finger. When Sherlock felt John relax he slowly pressed the tip inside, gasping at the tightness and heat which gripped him,

‘I-I’m inside you’ Sherlock gasped, his eyes wide and teary.

‘Sherlock, you’re not even finger deep yet’ John chuckled, feeling Sherlock slip in further

Sherlock snapped from his revelry and pushed in again, stopping once half of his long finger was inside the warmth of John’s body.

‘O-okay’ John gasped, already feeling slightly overwhelmed ‘now move your finger up a bit… bit more… just _oh fucking fuck there!’_

Sherlock startled as he watched John’s eyes roll back and his hips snap up as Sherlock ran his fingers over a walnut-sized lump. He smiled as he gently circled it with the pad of his finger, watching as John’s cock twitched and released a stream of precum.

‘Oh fuck, oh fucking fuck’ John swore, ‘Holy Frankenfuck’

Sherlock watched, desperate to laugh as John babbled and gripped the bedding tighter as Sherlock removed his finger and pushed back in, stroking the nerves inside before bumping against the prostate once more.

‘Another’ John gasped ‘more lube. Again’

Sherlock nodded and slowly removed his finger careful not to hurt his lover and poured more of the slick liquid over his digits, feeling the resistance of John’s hole against two of his fingers now.

‘Slow, _slowslowslowslow’_ John chanted as a mantra whilst Sherlock gently inserted two fingers inside, his hand stilling halfway once more to allow John to get used to the sensation. Sherlock moved his hand from John’s cock to tug on his own, feeling the precum welling up on the tip and the ache beginning in his balls as he watched John’s hungry hole swallowing up Sherlock’s fingers.

John shuffled his hips further down the bed; desperately trying to get more prostate stimulation which caused Sherlock to laugh and push his fingers in further. He was determined to be gentle ( _he knew himself how painful it could be)_ but his own horniness was causing a blockage between brain and hands forcing him to become out of synch.

‘Sherlock’ John cried ‘Sherlock please’

‘What John?’ Sherlock asked quizzically, stroking in soft circles around the prostate so not to overstimulate the doctor but giving enough touch to keep him aroused and happy.

‘What?’ John asked, opening his eyes and looking at Sherlock confused.

‘You were saying my name’ Sherlock smiled as he pressed harder, watching as another river of precum dripped onto John’s lower stomach.

‘Oh,’ John mumbled as he bit his lower lip and attempted to stifle his sounds.

‘No, I want to hear you. I thought I’d hurt you and you were telling me to stop’ Sherlock said, sounding slightly panicked.

‘Oh god don’t stop. Don’t stop Sherlock’ John begged, his head shaking side to side ‘another’

‘John are you sure?’ Sherlock asked nervously ‘we don’t have to’

‘Want you. Want you in me’ John gasped as Sherlock removed his fingers and applied yet more lubricant, realising that the sachet was almost empty.

Sherlock mumbled something under his breath which sounded like Latin whilst gently and carefully reapplying his fingers to John’s relaxed hole. The doctor hissed at the stretch of the unusual sensation but once Sherlock stroked his cock in time with his thrusts, John was soon making garbled and desperate noises once more.

The pair worked together to stretch and scissor John open until the older man insisted he was ready. His eyes half closed and almost entirely black from lust staring up at Sherlock who moved himself to rest his cock against John’s perineum as they kissed; John moved his hands to stroke through Sherlock’s curls, brushing them from his face as they rearranged their limbs to better fit together.

Sherlock reached into the bedside table for another sachet of lube, tearing it open and pouring it over his throbbing and red tipped erection and over the stretched muscle of John’s hole. Wiping his hands on the bedding Sherlock laid down onto John so they were joined lip, chest, stomach and thigh.

‘I love you’ Sherlock whispered as he nuzzled into John’s sweat-damp hair.

‘I love you too’ John replied as he moved his hand to press Sherlock inside him whilst the other rested on Sherlock’s plump arsecheek.

Despite all the preparation, it still stung as Sherlock stretched John wider around his shaft and caused John to grimace and gasp;

‘Breath out’ Sherlock soothed ‘it helps’

John nodded and exhaled shakily, calming his breathing and bearing down on the intruder helped to pass the pain until there was only a strange burn. Sherlock held himself still when he was buried inside John; his arms trembling beside John’s head as he desperately tried to stave off his orgasm.

Sherlock slowly moved in and out; moving further out each time until only his tip was inside John and he could push his entire length into the warm and tight tunnel which surrounded his prick. John had moved one hand to grab for Sherlock’s upper arm whilst the other remained on Sherlock’s arse, pushing into the skin until he was sure that his fingerprints would be embellished onto Sherlock’s pale skin. John moved his leg and watched with a smile as Sherlock lowered his shoulder deftly and allowed the older man’s calve to rest against his neck. The detective turned his head and pressed a soft and gentle kiss against John’s ankle as he began a steady rhythm in and out of John’s hole, the change in position suddenly allowing John’s prostate to be stimulated by Sherlock’s tip.

‘Holy fuck, fuck fuck fuck’ John swore, his back arching and his grip tightening ‘oh god, Sherlock’

Sweat was pouring from both men as they rutted desperately; Sherlock’s stomach rubbing against John’s dick as Sherlock increased the pace. Sherlock snapped his hips, feeling his own orgasm approaching like a freight train.

Changing his position he managed to put his weight onto his knees and right arm as his left moved between their sweaty bodies to grip John’s prick; Sherlock stroked and tugged on the shaft in time with his thrusts, listening to John’s cursing becoming more broken and desperate, mewling sighs and pleas escaping his lips as Sherlock fucked into him harder and faster, the _slap slap slap_ of his bollocks hitting John’s clammy skin echoing around the bedroom.

‘Oh fuck’ John screamed, his eyes rolling back ‘Sherlock, something-something is happening’

Sherlock watched in awe as John seemed to freeze solid; his back arched and his mouth open before his orgasm crashed over him with warm jets of cum reaching as far as his chin. John wailed as Sherlock stroked him through his peak, his cock still hammering against the sensitive prostate and his thumb stroking across the twitching tip which was still shooting endless ribbons of jizz.

John could only say one word; the word _Sherlock_ was repeated countless times as John finally relaxed back onto the bed; his head spinning and his world completely shattered. Seconds passed in slow motion as Sherlock pumped his hips a final time, his bollocks drawn up almost painfully tight as the final moments approached. Sherlock lowered his head and crushed his lips to John’s as he began to cum, firing his largest load yet deep inside his lover; feeling John taking his essence for the first time. Sherlock shuddered and groaned through his orgasm, his lips making no effort to kiss, rather, he and John shared breath as they gazed at one another in absolute wonder at the blissful sensations they had created.

Sherlock softly rocked himself back and forth to ensure his entire load was inside John before pulling away gently, letting John close his legs with a wince. Sherlock moved to grab John and pull him in for a sweaty embrace realising that both men were trembling,

‘I didn’t know it could be like that’ Sherlock whispered into John’s hair ‘I didn’t know it could be nice’

‘It was amazing’ John cooed, his fingers stroking his drying ejaculate on his stomach.

Sherlock smiled and pressed a kiss to John’s forehead; holding his lover tightly.

John lay surrounded Sherlock's scent, feeling shocked at his behaviour; he had partaken in anal sex. He had enjoyed being taken by Sherlock and already knew that he would be doing it again without a doubt although the tacky wetness leaking from his behind was a new and frankly weird sensation. He clenched his cheeks together and winced as he felt the now cooling liquid dribbling down his perineum and onto the sheets,

‘Loo’ John grimaced as he attempted to stand with his bum cheeks clenched, shuffling towards the bathroom.

‘You look ridiculous’ Sherlock laughed as he was sprawled out naked on the bed, one arm behind his back whilst his softening cock rested against his thigh.

* * *

 

Greg was filling out paperwork in his office; there had been a major drug find in the capital which was good news for the media and the head of Scotland Yard yet shitty news for the faceless minions who had to fill in the mounds of paperwork regarding health and safety, safe practice and goodness knows what else. Lestrade sipped at his cold coffee as he daydreamed about Mycroft; after the Christmas party they had been whisked back to Mycroft’s house ( _their house almost. Greg practically lived there anyway)_ and immediately jumped into the huge Jacuzzi bath together, their hands tracing across one another’s bodies before wrapping around one another’s dick’s… Greg cleared his throat and shook his head as he felt his cock stir forcing him to chastise himself; now wasn’t the time or place for fantasy.

A knock on his door made him thankful he had stopped his memory when he did; shouting through he watched as Donovan opened the door with a confused look on her face,

‘Sally?’ Greg sighed ‘What is it?’

‘Delivery for you Sir’ she said looking down at something out of Greg’s view.

‘For me?’ Greg frowned ‘who from?’

‘The freak and John’ Sally said as she picked up the huge fruit basket and brought it through to Greg’s office, leaving it on the desk ‘It just says ‘ _Best Christmas Ever’’_

Lestrade barked out a laugh and chuckled until tears streamed down his face startling Sally who looked over at her boss like he had lost the plot.

  



	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a bit of an arsey comment on another story and now I'm feeling shitty so I've become paranoid about my writing. I will post this small chapter and then recheck my other chapters. Might not post more until tomorrow.

_‘Are you sure?’ John asked nervously as he looked down at the splayed out vision of beauty below him ‘we don’t have to do this’_

Sherlock nodded nervously and bit his lower lip ‘I want to’

The older man nodded and began stroking his hands up and down Sherlock’s long expanse of skin; feeling the goosebumps raise under his fingertips as he slowly skimmed across the pale flesh. One hand wrapped around Sherlock’s cock and began to stroke as John cooed sweet nothings into the detective’s ear, his other hand moved lower, first rubbing against the tight balls which had been drawn up to Sherlock’s body and then moving below to stroke and caress the sensitive perineum.

Sherlock was momentarily stunned as his legs were drawn up to his chest and John moved to lick and caress his sensitive arsehole. Sherlock had always been the one to rim John, they had never swapped until now; his stomach flipped wildly as a hot and tender tongue lapped at his skin, driving him on and increasing his arousal until he could only cry out and whine as John licked and pushed his tongue inside the tiny hole.

John felt strangely at home with the gesture; he had always been confident at providing women with oral sex and had been told numerous times that he was good at it. Transferring the skill set from female to male anatomy wasn’t that difficult.

John caressed the puckered skin until Sherlock was loose and relaxed, his hands tight in the duvet cover as John reached out and picked up the lubricant they had bought especially since their first time at Christmas. Pumping the water-based lube onto his hand John warmed it gently before running his finger around the small circle of Sherlock’s hole; watching as Sherlock tensed and held his breath.

‘It’s okay, you’re okay’ John soothed, his other hand stroking patterns on Sherlock’s upper thigh ‘just relax’

Sherlock nodded and exhaled shakily; fighting the panic as John continued relaxing the muscle enough to finally slip a finger inside. Sherlock gasped and tensed once more as John held himself still and waited for Sherlock to calm.

John cricked his finger and felt the small nub of muscles; watching as Sherlock’s face visibly relaxed as the pleasurable sensations rushed through him. A gasp and sigh escaping his lips as he arched his back for more contact; John smiled and gave his lover what he wanted, stroking and caressing the lump inside until Sherlock was mewling and desperate.

‘Another’ Sherlock whispered watching John nod and lube up his index finger to push in alongside his middle.

A few moments passed in relative silence as John stroked Sherlock from the inside; the sounds of slick sex echoing around the bedroom the only noise in the whole flat.

‘I’m ready’ Sherlock whispered,

‘What? No you’re not’ John frowned

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked at John quizzically ‘I am’

‘No, you’re really not. If I push into you now I could tear you or worse, I won’t risk it’ John insisted moving to kiss Sherlock sweetly.

Sherlock blinked away tears as he remembered the pain of Victor pushing into him, of the ache and burn inside him as he was stretched and opened without adequate lubricant. His chest burnt and his brain began to short circuit as he was suddenly transported back to his teenage years; locked in a bedroom with a man who had no interest in his lover’s pleasure, instead, used Sherlock’s body for his own needs.

Sherlock’s face paled and his breathing became ragged as he remembered being pushed onto the bed, his head into the pillows as Victor held his neck down and grabbed the homemade dildo,

_‘Please Victor, don’t’ Sherlock begged pathetically ‘it hurts’_

_‘And it hurts whenever I’m seen in public with a slob like you’ Victor sneered ‘You’ve put on another two pounds. You obviously don’t care about my feelings’_

_‘I’m sorry’ Sherlock mumbled ‘I’m sorry’_

‘Christ’ John mumbled as he removed his fingers from Sherlock and grabbed the younger man into his arms softly, his chin resting on Sherlock’s crown as he held him tightly ‘it’s okay, you’re okay’

_‘You’re not okay’ Victor spat. ‘You’ll never be okay’_

John soothed his lover as much as possible as Sherlock cried and gripped him tightly,

‘I’m sorry John’ Sherlock whispered, his throat tight with sobs.

‘Shh, its okay’ John soothed ‘we don’t have to do anything else. Let’s just lay’

Sherlock nodded and allowed himself to be pulled into John’s embrace as he attempted to calm his breathing. Calming himself as John rocked him back and forth with a gentle rhythm;

‘I’m sorry’ Sherlock whispered ‘I thought I could’

‘It’s not important’ John soothed ‘I’m happy with our life as it is, we don’t have to do this’

Sherlock nodded once more and gripped John tightly ‘Thank you’

‘Not a problem’ John grinned ‘now would you like a cup of tea?’

Sherlock smiled and blushed ‘yes please’


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bollocks to the haters, I'm enjoying writing the story so here's the next chapter. It's case related and non-smutty but that will come soon enough,
> 
> TW- Violence, Death, Child Abduction, However it does have a ridiculous amount of John cuddling a baby. 
> 
> Both Victim and Criminal names have been chosen at random.
> 
> *Please note, I have no experience of police investigations, social services or anything like that. I'm also sure that a newborn abducted baby WOULD NOT be left in the care of two strangers but I don't care. It's my story and I want it to happen so it is! Also, no medical knowledge and everything I know has been learnt from TV*

The shrill tone of Sherlock’s mobile echoed around the bedroom as the detective fought with his cocoon of bedding to reach it; John grumbled and turned over angrily as Sherlock answered groggily,

‘Sherlock. You need to get here immediately’ Lestrade barked down the phone ‘we need you’

Sherlock was immediately sitting up and flinging himself from the bed ‘Location?’

Lestrade gave the address of the assault before adding ‘but tell John to get to Kings College Hospital. He’ll need to talk to the victim’

‘I see’ Sherlock said pulling on his trousers as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder ‘what’s the scene?’

‘You should come here yourself. I’m sending a car now, there’s no time’

* * *

 

John dressed quickly and gave Sherlock a brief kiss as they walked down the stairs to wait for their separate cars; John climbed into one with its sirens and lights blaring towards the hospital whilst Sherlock was transported to the crime scene where Lestrade stood outside looking anxious and extremely frustrated.

‘Sherlock’ he called as he saw the detective ‘we need you in the main office’

Sherlock nodded and walked through the entryway to the huge Solicitors office passing by a selection of officers and overall covered CSI’s. Strolling into the room Sherlock looked around and deduced the scene,

‘The victim was a wealthy and successful barrister. Guess her name is the one above the door’ Sherlock asked Lestrade who nodded ‘caught unaware, surprised from behind and knocked to the floor where a large knife was introduced to the fight’ Sherlock screwed his eyes up and paced around the room before staring at Lestrade.

‘The victim survived?’ Sherlock asked

‘She’s extremely critical at the hospital’ Lestrade sighed ‘that’s why we sent John. We couldn’t waste any time as she’s not expected to survive’

Sherlock nodded ‘Something was taken’

‘You could say that’ Greg grimaced ‘The victim’s baby was cut from her stomach and removed’

* * *

 

John walked into the secure ward after flashing ID and being shadowed by a detective from major crimes; he was introduced to the victim who was deathly pale and barely holding on to life surrounded by beeping machines and various wires.

‘Mrs Cole?’ John asked creeping closer ‘My name is Dr John Watson and I wondered if I could talk to you’

The victim gasped and nodded, the tube down her throat stopping her from speaking. John handed her a pad and pen and began to ask questions,

‘Do you know your attacker?’

The victim nodded scribbling on her pad ‘Client’

‘They were a client of yours? Male or Female?’

A shaky F was added to the paper followed by a second shaky word ‘ _baby?’_

‘I don’t know anything about that’ John added looking at the detective in the doorway who shook his head ‘We’ve got the best people looking for the baby. Sherlock Holmes is on the case’

A shiver of warmth ran through the doctor at the smile on the victim’s face as she nodded, relieved that Sherlock was working on finding her baby.

‘Do you know if the baby was male or female?’ John asked again watching as Mrs Cole added F to the paper and began to cry.

A slight gasp and shudder was the only notice the doctor received before the blaring of machines caused the detective to rush for the emergency doctors whilst John pounced into action attempting to stabilize her.

* * *

 

‘The attacker was female, aged 30-40, white and from a low-income family’ Sherlock began as he walked around the room ‘she was a previous client of the victim’

‘How can you be sure?’ Lestrade asked,

‘The door locks from the inside and has extensive CCTV. The victim wouldn’t have opened the door for a stranger without a prior appointment and her diary is currently clear’ Sherlock gestured to the diary ‘Today was the victims last day at work before her maternity leave began which would have been known by the perpetrator’

Greg rubbed a hand over his unshaved face and groaned ‘Christ. I never expected baby abduction in my life’

‘It’s rare’ Sherlock replied ‘but not unknown’

‘Let’s see what John says before we make any further deductions’ Sherlock added ‘but you need to put a _be on the lookout_ for a white woman driving a car full of brand new baby merchandise’

‘Like what?’ Greg asked, making notes.

‘Baby seat, bath, cots and everything else’ Sherlock rambled as he checked his phone ‘and get onto Mycroft. CCTV will have caught everything and he has the biggest collection of cameras’

Greg nodded and walked off to liaise with his lover to rescue a small baby.

* * *

 

Sherlock returned to the flat and paced the floor nervously as he stared at the case files which hung on the walls; there were three possibilities from Mrs Cole’s clients and Sherlock examined each one closely but nothing was making sense. He paced a little bit more until he heard the door to the flat open and John’s tread on the stairs,

Blood covered John’s clothes, up his arms and face as he entered the room and stared at his lover.

‘Are you injured?’ Sherlock asked worried as he strode over to grab John and check him for injury.

‘No’ John exhaled shakily ‘Virginia Cole died’

‘Oh’ Sherlock said sadly as he turned back to his wallchart ‘I can’t make heads or tails of it. It doesn’t make any sense’

John kissed Sherlock and moved to shower; leaving the door open as he scrubbed ‘tell me what you’ve found’

‘The victim knew her killer; she was a client though not one of her usual high profile clients. This woman was from a low-income family who was given Mrs Cole as a defence lawyer by chance; all of the files show these three possibilities were arrested for none violent crimes so why would they stoop to murder and abduction?’

‘Desperation?’ John asked, scrubbing his skin clean of blood ‘jealousy?’

‘Jealousy?’ Sherlock asked as he stood still his mind racing at a million miles an hour ‘John, you’re brilliant’

‘What?’ John asked, trying to coax the shower suds from his ears and eyes ‘I didn’t hear you’

Sherlock moved to the wall and grabbed the folder before flicking through the pages ‘here! Here it is’

_Daisy Williamson, arrested on suspicion of Theft, handling stolen goods and class C drug possession_

_‘_ Okayyy?’ John asked ‘why is it so exciting?’

‘This bit’ Sherlock added

_Miss Williamson has four children by four different fathers. Showing signs of neglect and mental abuse and as a result, the children have been taken into state protective custody._

‘And Mrs Cole was 8 months pregnant’ John finally twigged, climbing from the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist ‘you don’t think that she stole the baby to replace the ones which were taken?’

‘Wouldn’t be surprised’ Sherlock added ‘I need to see Lestrade’

* * *

 

The information was passed to each police officer and hospital whilst a plea was spread on social media for the public to be vigilant. Sherlock and John paced the living room as they waited for information,

‘Sherlock…’ a voice from the doorway made the pair look up at Mrs Hudson who was standing awkwardly and wringing her hands together.

‘Mrs Hudson?’ John asked

‘I-I think you should see this’ the woman whispered as she turned back to the doorway and walked down the stairs.

* * *

 

‘Jesus’ John shouted as he ran down the stairs to pick up the wailing baby which had been left on their doorstep; his doctor’s instinct to rush and grab the baby was stopped by Sherlock’s hand on his arm as he checked under the blanket for any booby traps. Finding nothing, Sherlock nodded at John who quickly scooped the newborn into his arms and carried it upstairs to the flat.

‘Lestrade. We’ve got the baby’ Sherlock shouted down the phone ‘what? No! She’s safe here with John because we don’t know where the killer is. She could be waiting for us to lead her to the baby’s family or take revenge on social services’

* * *

 

John placed the wailing baby onto their bed and unwrapped the blanket; the infant was dressed in a small pink romper suit and matching hat and looked remarkably healthy for the issues it had been through. John undressed the baby and gave it a full once-over, checking its heart and lungs and looking over at the broken umbilical cord.

‘Sherlock! Bring me some warm boiled water and cotton wool’ John shouted ‘and one of your posh towels’

The detective entered the bedroom with the supplies and looked down at the sleeping baby on their bed ‘is it okay?’

‘Healthy but she’s going to need something to eat soon and nappies’ John insisted ‘I can do a makeshift one for now though’

John opened the filthy nappy which had been wrapped around the baby’s waist and cleaned her up as best he could with the baby wipes which they normally used during sex before wrapping Sherlock’s towel around her bum and tucking it in. It was too big and bulky but would make do until the cavalry arrived; dipping the cotton into the water he cleaned around her broken cord and attempted to sterilize it as much as possible before redressing the baby in her romper suit.

‘When are social services coming for her?’ John asked, holding her up to his shoulder and bouncing slightly.

‘They aren’t’ Sherlock stared and blushed as he was caught looking ‘Not until the killer is found. She’s safer here with us’

John nodded and bit his lip ‘Okay, get me a pen and paper as you’ll need to pop to Tesco’

* * *

 

‘Ooooh I know, they’re buggers. I know’ John soothed as the baby began to cry again, her wailing echoing around the walls of the flat ‘you didn’t want to be taken out of Mummy and put into this scary world’

John bounced on his heels as he hushed the baby, humming lightly and talking gibberish as he rocked and calmed the bundle in his arms ‘You don’t even have a name yet do you poppet? We can’t just call you baby can we ey? My poor little lamb’

Mrs Hudson came into the room and scrunched up her nose at the softness of John dancing around the room with the baby; John was still whispering ‘I know, I know, they’re nasty horrible sods’

‘Sherlock’s home dear’ Mrs H whispered watching as the detective climbed the stairs quickly and stopped on the landing, his face blushing as he saw John cuddling the child.

‘I got everything’ he insisted ‘what can I do?’

‘Warm the kettle please.’ John asked ‘and pass me out a nappy and the cream’

* * *

 

The baby had finally settled against John’s shoulder as the doctor laid on his back and cuddled her closely; stroking her back softly he made soft cooing noises as he lulled her back to sleep. They had taken to calling her Minnie after the Disney mouse which was pictured on her hat,

‘God, what a terrible thing to have happened to her today’ John whispered looking down at the tiny button nose and fluttering eyelids.

‘Her father is on his way home from a business meeting, Mycroft arranged an emergency flight for him so he shouldn’t be too much longer’ Sherlock replied as he looked over the scene and grabbed a blanket to drape over John’s front and to cover the doctor and baby.

‘She’s very sweet’ John smiled ‘It’s been ages since I cuddled a baby like this’

‘Suits you’ Sherlock blushed as he entwined their fingers together.

* * *

 

Lestrade escorted Mr Cole to Baker Street where Sherlock opened the door and invited them in; Mr Cole rushed the stairs and into the living room to find John standing with the baby in his arms.

‘Oh god’ the man choked as he looked at his baby ‘Oh god’

‘I’m really sorry for your loss’ John frowned ‘She’s a healthy little girl, you’ll need to ensure her umbilical cord is checked regularly but she should be okay’

‘I can’t thank you enough’ the man said as he walked to John and gently wrestled with the baby to fit her into his arms awkwardly. John smiled and helped him as much as possible as Lestrade entered with a car seat,

‘Take care of her’ Sherlock whispered, emotion breaking in his voice ‘She erm… she likes this teddy’ the detective blushed as he handed the father a small beige bear which was quickly tucked in beside her.

‘Thank you, thank you’ the father whispered as he was escorted back down the stairs, his whispered thanks still following the other men until the door was closed.

* * *

 

Greg walked back into Baker Street and climbed the stairs to the living room; he sighed and took a seat as John moved to sit beside him.

‘We found her. She’d killed herself before we could reach her’ Greg whispered sadly

‘You did everything you could Greg’ John soothed ‘the baby will be fine’

‘I know’ Greg sighed ‘I just thought I’d come over and tell you face to face. Thank you for the help’

‘Anytime’ Sherlock mumbled from the kitchen and for once, Greg felt that Sherlock was being genuine.

‘Do you want something to eat? A cup of tea?’ John asked

Greg shook his head ‘Paperwork to finish’ he grimaced ‘I just want to go home to Myc’

* * *

 

The two men stayed silent for the majority of the night; neither had expected the small bundle to make such an impact on their lives as they sat in the silent flat feeling as though something was missing.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Do you want children?’ Sherlock asked quietly, his voice subdued and anxious.
> 
> ‘Er… never thought about it’ John lied,
> 
> ‘Yes, you have. After Minnie left’ Sherlock huffed ‘tell me’
> 
> ‘Maybe’ John shrugged ‘I’m happy as we are. Why?’
> 
> Sherlock looked down at his lover and bit his lower lip ‘I just… The Holmes family name is going to end with me and Mycroft. I can’t imagine that Greg or Mycroft will be open to adoption or surrogacy which leaves me’
> 
> ‘But do you even want children? I couldn’t have imagined you longing for a squealing bundle’
> 
> Sherlock shrugged his shoulders and lowered his head to rest in the crook of John’s neck.
> 
> ‘Sherlock, do you want a baby?’ John asked carefully, staring at Sherlock in with both shock and excitement.
> 
> ‘Yes,’ the detective nodded, blushing red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parent Lock! SQUEEEEEE
> 
> This is a very, very quick run through of the 9 months of pregnancy so don't expect anything in depth, it's basically just on fast forward.

Months passed into years without much changing at Baker Street; John and Sherlock worked on cases, argued over who was making tea and had wild and passionate sex at every opportunity. Their relationship was discovered by a local newspaper in Devon during a case and reported which then allowed the major tabloids to get a hold of the story. Mycroft attempted to do damage limitation but most of the comments which the couple received were positive; John was voted #1 influential bi-sexual male in Britain which was a surprise to the doctor who didn’t even realise he was a candidate ( _or Bi-sexual)_. He had laughed and joked with Sherlock; using the trophy as a bargaining chip for more tea or rewards whenever Sherlock would complain, John, would insist ‘ _oh but as #1 influential bi-sexual man in Britain, I couldn’t possibly make my own tea’_

That lasted three days until Sherlock hid the trophy. He returned it two days later when John hid Billy the Skull.

The men called a truce and relaxed into the sofa; cuddling and kissing one another quietly.

‘John?’ Sherlock whispered, his ear nuzzling into John’s ear

‘Hmm?’

‘Do you want children?’ Sherlock asked quietly, his voice subdued and anxious.

‘Er… never thought about it’ John lied,

‘Yes, you have. After Minnie left’ Sherlock huffed ‘tell me’

‘Maybe’ John shrugged ‘I’m happy as we are. Why?’

Sherlock looked down at his lover and bit his lower lip ‘I just… The Holmes family name is going to end with me and Mycroft. I can’t imagine that Greg or Mycroft will be open to adoption or surrogacy which leaves me’

‘But do you even want children? I couldn’t have imagined you longing for a squealing bundle’

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders and lowered his head to rest in the crook of John’s neck.

‘Sherlock, do you want a baby?’ John asked carefully, staring at Sherlock in with both shock and excitement.

‘Yes,’ the detective nodded, blushing red.

‘Okay’ John agreed ‘then let’s look into it’

* * *

 

Sherlock sat opposite John in his chair with a pad and paper; John read his book and occasionally glanced up at the detective who sat silently brooding,

‘Okay. What?’ John asked exasperatedly ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I’m trying to create a list’ Sherlock explained ‘but I don’t know what to include’

‘What’s the list for?’ John asked,

‘A guideline for the woman who would carry and have our child’ Sherlock added, his lips wrapped around the pen lid seductively.

‘Well, isn’t it something we should think of together?’ John insisted, putting down his book and folding his hands in his lap ‘what’s first?’

‘High IQ’ Sherlock insisted ‘well educated’

John smiled and nodded ‘Agreed’

Sherlock scribbled the note down in his usual chicken scratch handwriting and looked up at John once more ‘now you’

‘Erm… healthy. Family history would be needed along with tests to check for genetic conditions’ John said softly,

‘You couldn’t raise a disabled baby?’ Sherlock frowned,

‘It’s not a case of couldn’t or wouldn’t. It’s rather our child be healthy above all else’ John griped.

‘Okay’ Sherlock scribbled once more ‘I can’t think of anything else’

‘So you’re happy with a smart baby?’ John smiled.

‘A smart, healthy baby’ Sherlock insisted with a frown.

‘The mother should be a non-smoker too with a healthy diet’ John insisted

Sherlock nodded; listening to John finish the rest of the list easily.

* * *

 

John wasn’t sure where Sherlock had found Stacey’s details; the young woman turned up at the door to 221B with a glittering smile and outstretched hand as she introduced herself.

‘Oh come in’ John gestured allowing the young lady to come through and take a seat on the sofa, her hands clutched demurely to her lap.

Sherlock entered and smiled down at Stacey before pressing a kiss to her cheek ‘Hello Stace’

John raised an eyebrow at Sherlock shortening somebodies name but let it go and Sherlock took a seat. John found the woman approachable and lovely from the very moment they met; she had a sparkling wit and dry sense of humour as well as a full medical history and a PhD in Physics.

The deal was struck immediately. Stacey left with a smile and a verbal contract that she would donate her eggs and carry the baby to term before giving responsibility to Sherlock and John. Mycroft had insisted on writing a proper contract which was to be signed when pregnancy viability was confirmed.

‘Where did you find her?’ John asked as they ate at Angelo’s that night.

‘I helped on her case’ Sherlock shrugged ‘One of my first after getting clean and we kept in touch’

‘and she’s okay with giving away the baby?’ John asked cautiously,

‘She wouldn’t have agreed if she wasn’t. She knows her own mind’ Sherlock insisted.

* * *

 

The first six weeks of waiting was nerve-wracking; Sherlock and John had both donated a sample to be mixed and implanted into Stacey to hopefully take. As a doctor, John knew it wasn’t as simple as sperm meets egg but his stomach was still in knots as they waited for a text.

**[Image enclosed] Congratulations daddies – Stacey xx**

Sherlock blinked at the message and handed John the picture of two pink lines on a stick test. John broke into a wide smile and grabbed Sherlock tightly who blinked away tears as he looked at the message again,

‘Sherlock’ John whispered ‘We’re going to be daddies’

* * *

 

Stacey held Sherlock’s hand tightly as they looked at the flickering screen where the whooshing noises of the baby heartbeat could be heard. John stared in wonder as the nurse moved around the jelly streaked belly,

‘There’s baby’ the nurse smiled ‘looks perfectly happy and healthy’

Sherlock walked to the screen and ran his fingers over the outline of the tiny foetus which was only a few months old before looking at both Stacey and John.

‘Oh’ the nurse whispered, her eyebrows pulled into a frown ‘Oh’

‘What? What’s wrong?’ Sherlock asked, his heart pounding fast as he moved to John’s side and grabbed his lover's shoulder ‘what’s happened?’

The nurse smiled and looked over at the unusual couple before her before softly saying ‘and there’s baby number 2’

‘Twins?’ John asked, ‘are you saying twins?’

The nurse nodded and moved the scanner further onto Stacey’s stomach and pressed down, showing a second perfectly formed baby beneath the first.

‘Oh my god’ John whispered ‘Sherlock, oh my god’

‘Oh my god’ Sherlock parroted and stared at the screen.

* * *

 

‘You two better appreciate this’ Stacey grumbled as she poked her 9 months distended stomach, reaching her arms out for John to help her up from the sofa ‘I can’t stop bloody weeing’

Sherlock chuckled from the corner and looked over at John supporting Stacey to the toilet before leaving her and walking back to Sherlock, kissing his head and cheeks ‘Do we have everything sorted?’

‘Hospital bag is done, C-Section booked, Two Car Seats, two baby grows, nappies, hats, camera’ Sherlock listed as he read off the paper ‘upstairs is decorated, cribs are in our room for the time being along with changing mats’

‘Sounds good’ John started, listening to Sherlock continue his ramblings ‘and how are you?’

‘Me? I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m totally fine’ Sherlock said too quickly,

‘Okay Mr Anxiety, we need to get you a date with a brown paper bag’ John smiled, rummaging through the cupboard until he reached the paper bag and held it over Sherlock’s mouth ‘breathe calmly’

Sherlock inhaled and exhaled shakily until the trembling in his hands ceased and he could think clearly again. Stacey returned to the living room and lifted her eyebrow ‘anyone would think you were giving birth’ she laughed as she took her seat again.

‘Overwhelmed’ Sherlock smiled ‘I’m okay’

* * *

 

‘Sherlock, wake up. Today is the day you become a daddy’ John whispered into Sherlock’s ear waking him from a pleasant and dreamless dream.

‘No. It’s too soon. I’m not ready’ Sherlock complained whilst giggling, climbing further under the duvet ‘wake me in twenty years’

‘You have twenty minutes. Put your trousers on’ John giggled as he jumped up and down playfully ‘Come on!’


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘What if I drop them?’ Sherlock panicked looking up at John with huge, clear eyes.
> 
> ‘You won’t’ John soothed, stroking a hand through Sherlock’s curls.
> 
> ‘I might. I have clumsy hands. Look!’ Sherlock waved his hands in front of John’s face ‘I can’t be responsible for small people’
> 
> ‘Imagine they’re an expensive chemistry set you’ve always wanted’ John smiled, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s head ‘You’ll be fine’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Parentlock,
> 
> *slight TW for vomiting*
> 
> Also, Heteropaternal superfecundation is a real thing. I saw it on Maury *nods* and then googled it a bit. So yeh, not sure what the science is behind it but we're not here for scientific accuracy are we? We're all about the bumming.

‘What if I drop them?’ Sherlock panicked looking up at John with huge, clear eyes.

‘You won’t’ John soothed, stroking a hand through Sherlock’s curls.

‘I might. I have clumsy hands _. Look_!’ Sherlock waved his hands in front of John’s face ‘I can’t be responsible for small people’

‘Imagine they’re an expensive chemistry set you’ve always wanted’ John smiled, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s head ‘You’ll be fine’

The doors to the private room were opened as Stacey was wheeled back into the room; she was still groggy from the medication but her eyes shone brightly as she looked at her two friends perched in the corner waiting anxiously,

‘Daddies’ Stacey smiled softly ‘say hello to your babies’

Two bundles were lying beside each other wrapped in lemon-coloured blankets; their fingers outstretched and entwined as though they refused to be separated. John helped Sherlock to his feet and together, both men went over to the incubators and looked in.

‘They’re so tiny’ Sherlock cooed, tears in his eyes as he looked down at his sons sleeping peacefully.

John turned to the midwife who was escorting Stacey back ‘how was the birth? Any complications?’

‘None what so ever, perfectly routine’ the nurse smiled,

‘How do you feel?’ John asked Stacey looking over her face with his doctor’s eye

‘I’m sleepy but I’m good. I feel about a tonne lighter’ she smirked as she looked at the incubator ‘I think he’s smitten already’

‘John. John _look!_ ’ Sherlock shouted and grabbed John’s hand to pull him closer ‘they have fingers! And toes!’

‘of course, they do’ John laughed

‘They’re fully formed humans’ Sherlock whispered almost stunned speechless ‘and they’re ours’

John felt the tears welling in his eyes as he looked over at a flabbergasted Sherlock who was already sobbing and laughing at the same time, his long fingers dipping into the incubator to stroke through the twins hair.

‘Soft’ Sherlock whispered ‘like smoke’

John raised an eyebrow and laughed as the midwife offered to let the fathers hold their babies for the first time. John sat first and was handed the smaller of the two, a scrunched up red face stared up with large eyes as John stroked his fingers through the soft auburn-ish curls. Sherlock sat beside him nervously, his arms held out in the traditional rocking pose as the larger baby was placed carefully into the crook of his arm,

Sherlock looked down in wonder at the small life in his arms as the baby wrapped his tiny fist around his father’s thumb and looked up;

‘Hello little one’ Sherlock whispered down to the bundle ‘I’m your father and this here’ he pointed at John ‘is your other daddy’

‘They’re a little bit young yet’ John smiled but moved to kiss Sherlock’s cheek as they stared down at the bundles in their arms.

‘ _One, two, three’_ Sherlock counted, his fingers ticking off each miniature finger and toe of his baby before looking at John ‘check his too’

‘For what?’ John smiled,

‘Make sure! They have to have 10 of each’ Sherlock insisted, staring at John as though he was mad.

John gave in and slowly counted his babies digits until Sherlock was happy. The detective was silent for a moment before starting again _one, two, three, four_

 _‘_ What are you doing now?’ John laughed

‘Just checking again’ Sherlock whispered, focussing on the small fingers and toes.

‘We just checked’ John laughed harder,

‘Collecting data’ Sherlock insisted.

* * *

 

John put the babies back in their warm incubator and moved his chair to Stacey who looked pale and sleepy but beaming happily.

‘I’m glad I could be the one to give you this’ she smiled at both men.

‘You can see them anytime’ John promised ‘They’ll know who birthed them’

‘Pfft’ Stacey huffed ‘I was just the vessel’

Their conversation was interrupted once more by Sherlock sneaking to the incubator, pushing his hand inside and slowly counting _one, two, three, four._

* * *

 

‘May I come in?’ The doctor asked as she knocked on the door and looked in at a dozing Stacey and Sherlock who had curled himself up in the chair and wrapped his coat around himself.

‘Sure’ John replied, gently waking Sherlock from his slumber ‘The doctor’s here’

Stacey woke as the voices grew louder and blinked as she rubbed her eyes ‘what’s going on?’

‘We received the results from the blood tests’ the doctor smiled ‘both boys are perfectly healthy’

‘Fantastic’ John exhaled ‘That’s good’

‘There is something else’ the doctor added as she closed the door to the room and stepped inside ‘We ran a comparative blood test on both boys, nothing unusual just standard procedure, however, we found something interesting’ she smiled

‘Oh?’ Sherlock asked, leaning forward

‘It seems the boys have different DNA, something we call _Heteropaternal superfecundation’_ the doctor said softly,

‘What does that mean?’ Stacey asked sounding panicked,

‘It means that each boy has a different father’ Sherlock swallowed ‘we have one each’

‘It’s rare, very rare. I’ve only heard of one other case in the UK but it appears you have the second’ the doctor smiled ‘so congratulations’

‘I don’t want to know which is which’ John insisted quickly ‘as far as I’m concerned, they’re both ours’

‘Of course’ the doctor smiled with a nod ‘I’ll let you settle for the night’

* * *

 

The decision had been made to allow Stacey to breastfeed the boys for the first few weeks or until she decided she no longer wanted to continue. John sat reading the newspaper in the hospital room whilst Sherlock held the other baby to his chest; neither looking up as Stacey silently fed the larger baby at her breast,

‘Oh’ a voice from the doorway startled them ‘forgive me’

Mycroft blushed crimson and turned his back to the door; taking a step into the corridor and waiting for somebody to call him in. Sherlock and John shared a look and looked to Stacey who shrugged ‘I’m okay with it’

‘Mycroft, you can come in. It’s okay’ John called watching the politician awkwardly re-enter the room still rather flushed.

‘Forgive my rudeness Miss Miller’ Mycroft nodded softly towards Stacey ‘I wasn’t aware you would be feeding him’

‘That’s okay Mycroft’ Stacey smiled in return ‘No problem’

Mycroft hovered awkwardly beside the bed until Sherlock rolled his eyes and stood up ‘sit there’

‘I- I don’t’ Mycroft started but soon gave up the fight and sat perfectly poised, his umbrella and briefcase by his feet.

‘Mind his head’ Sherlock cooed as he handed the bundle over to Mycroft who looked like he had just been handed a bomb.

‘Sherlock I don’t…’ Mycroft started before relaxing as the baby took hold of his finger ‘oh’

‘He’s too young to realise what an arse you are’ Sherlock quipped as he looked down at his big brother holding a tiny baby ‘he likes you already’

‘He has tiny fingers’ Mycroft commented,

‘Jesus. You Holmes and your obsession with fingers’ John laughed watching as Mycroft snapped his head up feeling he was being mocked ‘Sherlock said exactly the same thing’

‘Have you thought of names yet?’ Mycroft asked, looking at John and then Sherlock.

‘We like Albert for him’ John smiled down, wiping away a tiny dribble from the babies chin ‘but we haven’t decided on his yet’ he gestured at the bundle still feeding.

‘Albert was Grandad’s name’ Mycroft whispered, looking up at Sherlock who nodded.

‘Albert William Holmes Watson’ Sherlock smiled down,

* * *

 

‘Herbert?’ John asked watching Sherlock shake his head ‘Henry? Heston?’

‘No. Chose a normal name’ Sherlock insisted as he trawled the web for suitable names for the second twin ‘Lucas?’

‘Christ no. There was a kid with tapeworm called Lucas at the clinic’ John shuddered ‘And Connor is out because he was a naughty kid at school’

‘Any others?’ Sherlock asked exasperatedly.

‘Nathan’ John smiled ‘You don’t want to know why’

‘Now I need to know’ Sherlock insisted

‘Let’s just say, his nickname at Secondary school was _shitty Nathan’_ John chuckled.

‘Oh. Definitely not’ Sherlock grimaced ‘Logan?’

‘Benjamin’ John whispered as he looked at his son sleeping beside his brother ‘Benjamin… I like that’

‘He does look like a Benjamin’ Sherlock cooed looking down ‘Okay, so we have Benjamin and Albert’

* * *

 

‘Sherlock’ John hissed ‘They’re secure. I promise’

Sherlock scratched his head absently and looked down at the car seats which had been plugged into Greg’s car ‘I don’t know. I need to check again’

‘No, they’re fine’ John insisted taking Sherlock away from the car and to a cleared area ‘are you okay?’

‘I don’t… I don’t know’ Sherlock admitted ‘I feel like it’s all too much’

‘I know,’ John soothed, kissing Sherlock’s forehead ‘but it’s okay. We’ll manage it together’

‘What if I’m not a good dad?’ Sherlock whispered, tearful ‘what if I’m a failure like Victor said I was’

John was momentarily stunned at the name which hadn’t been mentioned for over a year ‘Sherlock, calm down’

‘John… John oh god, I’m going to be sick’ Sherlock shuddered, bending over into the nearest patch of grass and bringing up the sandwich he had eaten for lunch. His stomach heaving and his head thundering as he gagged,

‘Oh, Sherlock.’ John soothed as he stroked Sherlock’s back and pulled back the hair from his face ‘That’s it, its okay’

Greg looked over at the scene and narrowed his eyes in alarm; typing out a message to Mycroft who was still in the hospital helping to arrange the discharge notices and ensure that Stacey was fit to take home.

Sherlock was shaking as John gently stroked his back and whispered nonsense to him.

‘What have we done John?’ Sherlock asked, his eyes wide and terrified.

‘We’ve become fathers’ John smiled ‘Millions of other people do it and they’re just regular people. You’re a genius and I’m a doctor and soldier, we’ll manage’

Sherlock exhaled shakily and nodded ‘You’re right, forgive me’

‘Nothing to forgive,’ John smiled, kissing Sherlock’s cheek ‘Let’s get you a mint’

* * *

 

Greg pulled up the car with John in the passenger seat whilst Sherlock sat in the tiny space between the two babies. Mycroft had insisted on taking his own car to ensure that Stacey returned home in comfort rather than be crushed into a small, tightly packed saloon car.

‘What the fuck are they doing here?’ Greg hissed angrily looking at the group of people standing around the flat door, huge cameras and flashes being held by a collection of journalists.

Sherlock groaned and grabbed the spare blankets; he gently placed the blankets over the car seats to obscure the babies to the camera as Greg climbed from the car and walked into the middle of the group.

‘You need to leave before I arrest you for harassment’ Greg growled ‘Now’

‘Freedom of the media’ a man sneered towards the DI ‘It’s in the public interest’

Greg narrowed his eyes and snarled ‘What’s your name?’

The journalist smiled ‘Alan Cole. Daily Mail’

Greg nodded and pulled out his mobile phone, dialling Mycroft’s number.

‘Hiya Myc, what? Yeh fine. There’s a backpack outside Baker Street. A dickhead named Alan Cole has insisted its in the public interest to snap pictures of your nephews. Oh? Okay then’ Greg hung up and tapped his foot, waiting the few moments until Alan’s phone rang.

The journalist narrowed his eyes and picked up the phone. His face becoming pale as he nodded and agreed with whatever the man on the line said,

‘Yeh…we better go’ Alan mumbled,

‘Off you scoot’ Lestrade smiled ‘toodles’

Sherlock and John watched Greg angrily confront the journalists and relaxed slightly when the group disappeared into the London afternoon;

‘Coasts clear’ Greg smiled opening the back door and starting to unplug the first car seat.

‘Cheers mate’ John smiled

‘Not a problem, anything for my nephews’ Greg cooed into the car seat as John opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing with Shitty Nathan is true. My mum was going to call me Nathan if i was a boy but my Gran refused to accept it as there was a boy on her street who used to shit himself.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daddy smut

John relaxed on the sofa as his foot rocked baby Ben in his seat; the pair were used to living on not much sleep but it seemed that the babies had focussed on ensuring that neither man got any sleep at all. Albert would sleep peacefully until Ben began to cry causing one of the men to see to him and return him to his crib only to have Albert begin his own screaming once they had left the room. The two men were exhausted.

‘Desist!’ Sherlock’s voice came from the bathroom ‘Stop this nonsense at once!’

John groaned and peeled himself from his comfortable seat to walk into the bathroom where Sherlock knelt by the bathtub, Albert lying on his bathmat being scrubbed down by Sherlock tentatively.

‘What’s wrong?’ John asked,

‘He won’t stop splashing’ Sherlock griped ‘it wouldn’t be too bad but he’s peed in the water’

John chuckled softly and ran his fingers through Sherlock’s curls ‘what’s a bit of wee between daddy and baby?’

Sherlock frowned and grimaced ‘some went in my eye’

* * *

 

The boys were sleeping in their cribs; snoring softly against the sound of Mozart which played in the background. John had enjoyed a long, scolding hot shower which caused his skin to turn pink and fresh as he towelled off and walked into the kitchen finding Sherlock hunched over his microscope,

‘What you looking at?’ John asked quizzically, clicking on the kettle.

‘Albert’s umbilical cord’ Sherlock smiled ‘It fell off’

John grimaced ‘That’s disgusting’

‘It’s fascinating actually’ Sherlock began, launching into a rambling conversation as John moved behind him to kiss and suck on his neck and nuzzle his nose against Sherlock’s ear,

‘How would you like an early night?’ John whispered seductively ‘the boys are asleep, I’m all clean and sparkling’

Sherlock groaned and turned his head to meet John in a deep and passionate kiss, pulling the older man down to sit on his knee despite the still wet towel wrapped around his waist.

‘I would love to take you to bed’ Sherlock replied, kissing down John’s neck and shoulders until he could latch onto the sensitive nipples.

‘Mmmmm’ John groaned, holding Sherlock’s head to his skin ‘I don’t think I can make it to the bed’ John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders and pulled them both to stand ‘I think the furthest I can go is the sofa’

Sherlock nodded and followed John’s lead to the comfortable sofa; moving the squeaky duck and various dummies onto the table as he laid John down and whipped off the towel leaving the doctor bare and flushed to Sherlock’s gaze,

‘God I’ve missed this’ Sherlock whispered, kissing a trail from John’s nipples to his navel, licking and sucking at the sensitive tip as he sucked on the plentiful foreskin which hadn’t yet retracted fully.

‘Mmmmm yes’ John groaned, his hips grinding down desperate for more friction.

Sherlock bobbed his head and took in the first part of John’s cock, wrapping his hand around the base and stroking at the same time in a steady rhythm, tasting the free-flowing precum which leaked down the shaft.

John tangled his fingers into Sherlock’s silky stands, pulling them back from his face so John could watch his thick cock push between those sinfully perfect lips.

Sherlock bobbed, again and again, his wrist twisting perfectly as his other hand moved to cup John’s balls.

‘I want you to fuck me’ John gasped, his back arching ‘we need lube’

Sherlock nodded and rushed to the bedroom; opening the top drawer he grabbed the lube bottle and turned for the door before turning again and checking the twins who slept silently in their cribs.

‘Kids okay?’ John asked as Sherlock returned

‘Yeah sleeping’ Sherlock nodded as he returned to the sofa and clicked off the lid of the lube, slicking up his fingers and slowly circling John’s warm and tight hole.

‘Mmmmm’ John groaned low and desperate, his voice needy as he grabbed Sherlock and pulled him closer ‘More, harder’

Sherlock chuckled against John’s lips and opened his mouth to run his tongue along the soft lower lip of his lover as his finger breached John’s entrance. John mewled and panted against Sherlock’s mouth as he arranged himself more comfortable and pulled Sherlock onto him.

The detective was still fully dressed as he was pressed against his John's body; unable to feel the usual soft skin under his own was upsetting and caused Sherlock to pout and whisper for John to unbutton his shirt. John nimbly stripped Sherlock’s top and wrapped his hands under the fabric to grip Sherlock’s waist as Sherlock pushed his finger inside John further, deeper.

A soft cough caused both men to stop and freeze as they listened to the boys in the bedroom; the noise disappeared causing both to smile and continue, Sherlock pulling his finger out and replacing it with two, bending his fingers to poke and prod at John’s prostate which forced a long and deep groan from John’s throat.

‘God, Sherlock’ John whimpered, his legs wrapping themselves around Sherlock’s thighs as he ground his hips up, spreading his copious precum over Sherlock’s black trousers.

Sherlock nuzzled down John’s neck as he finger fucked his lover harder and faster, careful not to hurt but hard enough for John to feel a soft ache. Sherlock added a third finger and scissored them open until John was pliant and wide enough to take Sherlock’s prick,

‘You’re sure?’ Sherlock asked, despite the regular sex, Sherlock made it a habit to ask John if he was ready.

‘Yes,’ John whispered, his eyes blown black as he stared up at his partner.

Sherlock removed his hands and unpopped his trouser button and flies, pulling them down to below his arse as he took himself in hand and gently stroked lube onto his solid length. He positioned himself at John’s opening and took a deep and steady breath as he breached his lover,

‘Fuck’ John gasped, ‘God’

‘Shhhh’ Sherlock chuckled ‘You’ll wake the babies’

John bit his lower lip and attempted to stifle himself until Sherlock prodded against his prostate with one harsh thrust which caused John to shout out in pleasure,

The sound of crying echoed around the living room as Sherlock glared at John ‘Oh bloody hell’

* * *

 

John wrapped his towel around his waist for decency before walking to the bedroom; he shushed Benjamin who was crying in his crib and replaced his dummy, checking his temperature and ensuring he was tucked in properly before leaving once more and walking back to the living room where Sherlock sat slowly stroking his cock with his eyes closed and his mouth slack,

‘Impatient sod’ John smiled as he looked down at Sherlock, who snapped his eyes open and blushed,

Sherlock turned to move but was stopped as John dropped his towel and straddled Sherlock’s thighs, looking down at Sherlock’s almost colourless eyes as he lined Sherlock’s cock up with his entrance and slowly sank down. Gasping at the new sensation,

Despite how often the two had slept together; they had never experimented with positions. A mixture of embarrassment and discomfort tempering their sexual experiences which John decided needed to stop tonight; he ground down his hips and gasped at the new feeling of Sherlock slipping deeper inside him,

‘Oh’ John gasped, his eyes wide and shocked ‘oh’

Sherlock pulled his shirt open and moved John’s hands to rest on his pale shoulders to allow the doctor better leverage to bounce up and down. John blushed and closed his eyes as he rolled his hips, feeling the tip pressing against his prostate and forcing more precum to drip from his hardness onto Sherlock’s lower stomach.

‘I won’t—I won’t last long’ John warned as Sherlock wrapped a large violin callused hand around John’s prick,

‘Kiss me’ Sherlock whispered, his lips meeting John’s in the middle as they passionately licked and sucked on one another’s tongues. Sherlock wrapped his other hand around John’s waist and down to his buttocks, touching the join where the pair were entwined and gasping with desire as he felt himself slip inside deeper.

‘Sherlock’ John gasped ‘oh fuck’

Sherlock rocked his hips up and down watching as John bounced and his eyes rolled back at the stimulation. The older man threw his head back and wailed in bliss as he began to cum, soaking Sherlock’s fist and stomach as he climaxed.

Sherlock felt the tightening of John’s hole around his shaft and gripped John’s hip as he thrust inside half a dozen times before tensing and grunting as his own orgasm washed over him causing a shudder to rush through his body. John rested his forehead against Sherlock’s and pressed a kiss to the pointy nose beneath,

‘Mmmmm’ John whispered

‘Agreed’ Sherlock smiled ‘however we now have an issue’

‘What’s that?’ John mumbled, lethargy crashing over him with a yawn.

‘We need to… disengage from one another’ Sherlock winced ‘and we have no wipes or tissue’

‘Oh’ John grimaced ‘hold my waist’

Sherlock frowned but placed his hand on the plump hipbone and waited as John reached over to the towel on the floor and gently wiped Sherlock’s stomach and fist before preparing himself mentally to stand. He grimaced as he slowly lifted himself from the softening cock inside him and felt the first drops of cum escape.

‘Eurgh’ John groaned ‘Maybe next time we do this, we do it in bed… with towels down… or rubber sheets’


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another little chapter,
> 
> I'm rushing through the chapters, not creating much of a general story just taking snippets out. Let me know what you think.

‘Do we have to do this?’ Sherlock grimaced

‘Yes’ John insisted firmly, his hand resting on Sherlock’s knee ‘Your parents haven’t seen the boys yet and it’s the first time your parents are meeting Greg’

Sherlock exhaled and pouted as the chauffeur continued down the small country road; Sherlock and John sat in the back seat opposite one another with a baby beside them in their car seats,

‘Plus’ John smiled ‘with your mother, father, Mycroft and Greg to do the babysitting… we could finally get some sleep’

‘Oooh’ Sherlock groaned lustily ‘that would be perfect’

‘I remember a time when we would think the same way about sex’ John sighed ‘now we just want cocoa and bed’

Sherlock smiled and allowed Benjamin to grip his finger as he looked down at his son; Sherlock had realised rather early that Albert was his son whilst Ben was biologically John’s, however, neither man loved the other any less. Albert was dark haired and had a large mass of curls around his crown which bounced whenever the boy moved compared to Ben who was almost bald with only a hint of blonde fuzz covering his scalp. The two boys were coming on marvellously and although only three months old, Sherlock was fairly certain they were geniuses. John had rolled his eyes and ignored Sherlock as a week previously he stared at Albert and asked him to say ‘daddy’

‘Earth to Sherlock?’ John griped from across the car

‘What? Oh, sorry’ Sherlock smiled thinly ‘was thinking’

‘I see that’ John grinned ‘We’re nearly there. Are you ready?’

Sherlock nodded and inhaled shakily as the car turned into the Holmes manor driveway and up to the house where Violet and Gerald stood anxiously awaiting their grandchildren.

Violet approached the car excitedly and pulled open the door before the driver had even turned off the engine; her mouth turned up into a huge grin as she smiled into the car seat at the tiny view she had of Albert and Ben.

‘Oh my babies!’ Violet gushed looking at Sherlock and kissing him on his cheek ‘My precious and amazingly clever boy’

Sherlock blushed and unclipped the car seat as John climbed out of the car and grabbed Benjamin’s seat, handing it straight to Gerald whilst he passed Albert to Violet.

‘He’s a handsome chap isn’t he?’ Gerald smiled as he looked down at the gummy smile crossing Ben’s lips.

‘Oh he’s the double of you’ Violet squealed as she looked down at Albert ‘he looks just like you as a baby’

‘Shall we get inside before it rains mummy?’ Sherlock asked carefully, entwining his fingers with John and hovering nervously as the grandparents carried the heavy boys into the house.

* * *

 

Sherlock and John sat drinking tea as Violet and Gerald removed the boys from their carriers to hold tightly; Gerald was awkward at first, unsure of how to position the tiny bundle until Sherlock arranged his arms correctly and allowed the older Holmes to relax into his chair as he looked down at his grandson with a gleam in his eye ‘My little Benny boy’

‘Not Benny father’ Sherlock groaned ‘I hate Benny’

‘Hush, you hated Lockie too’ Gerald smiled as he looked down and pulled silly faces at the infant ‘but daddy cannot tell Grandad what to call his little boy can he? Because you’re going to be my Benny Boy and your brother is going to be my Albie’

‘Fantastic’ Sherlock grimaced ‘Pet names already’

John chuckled under his breath and took a deep sip of his tea feeling his restlessness slipping away into a sleepy haze as he watched Violet catalogue each millimetre of both boys. Sherlock took John’s cup from his hand as the doctor began to fall asleep, his head falling forward on his chest.

‘Listen, why don’t you boys go for a sleep? We’ve got these two and if we need you, we can wake you’ Violet whispered ‘you look exhausted’

Sherlock yawned and nodded as he nudged John and woke him ‘Come on, we’re going for a nap’

John nodded and grumbled something sleepily as Sherlock helped him to his feet before leading him up the stairs to the bedroom they had shared the first time they stayed over at the manor; Sherlock kicked off his shoes, trousers and shirt and climbed into bed wearing only his vest, underwear and socks. He was too exhausted to hunt for pyjamas, John followed suit and climbed in beside his lover curling up as the big spoon and falling asleep almost immediately as their heads touched the pillow.

* * *

 

Sherlock blinked his eyes open and listened for noises; he immediately panicked and sat up, startling John awake who jumped to action looking for an attacker,

‘The boys’ Sherlock shouted before recognising his surroundings ‘oh’

‘Your parents’ John yawned as he laid back down ‘Christ, it’s dark, how long have we been asleep?’

Sherlock checked his phone and groaned ‘six hours’

‘Shit’ John swore as he climbed from the bed and dressed quickly ‘the boys will be hungry’

The pair dressed and quickly climbed down the stairs where they heard the familiar sounds of Greg and Mycroft chatting to the elder Holmes. The couple opened the door to be faced with Greg blowing raspberry’s onto Ben’s exposed belly as Mycroft examined a plastic duck.

‘Sorry we slept so long’ John blushed ‘didn’t set an alarm’

‘That’s okay’ Violet smiled ‘We noticed their feeding times in the changing bag so they’ve been fed, burped and changed’

‘Oh’ John smiled ‘that’s good’

‘Mycroft, Lestrade’ Sherlock nodded at the men in greeting before taking a seat on the floor and taking Albert into his arms with a large smile.

‘Fatherhood suits you brother mine’ Mycroft smiled as he squeezed the duck, listening to it quack.

‘They’re fascinating’ Sherlock smiled ‘I’ve found I’m never bored anymore’

‘I remember when my daughter was this little’ Greg swooned at Ben’s tiny little foot ‘I just wanted to stare at her all day’

‘We’ve been meaning to ask actually’ John said as he entered the room and took a seat opposite Mycroft and Greg ‘How would you feel about becoming their Godparents?’

Violet gasped and held a hand to her lips as tears filled her eyes; Greg nodded immediately with a smile but Mycroft sat stunned, blinking nervously and staring at John and then Sherlock.

‘You – You trust me with that responsibility?’ Mycroft mumbled nervously,

‘Mycroft, you run the bloody country’ John laughed softly ‘Night feeds and bath time won’t be a touch on that, plus, we’re not planning on popping off anytime’

‘I would be honoured’ Mycroft whispered, throwing his gaze to the opposite wall and blinking away the tears which threatened to spill down his cheeks. Greg reached over and grabbed Mycroft’s knee and gave it a soft squeeze as he lifted Ben to his face to look at,

‘You two are going to be the most spoilt children in Britain’ Greg grinned.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one tonight, Part 2 tomorrow.
> 
> TW mentions of cutting, vomiting, previous eating disorders and death. 
> 
> Also, I've linked the theme to In the Night Garden because despite it being a show for tiny kids, the tune makes me want to cry every time I hear it.

John stood cleaning the kitchen worktops listening to Sherlock play his violin; the detective had discovered that their ten-month-old babies loved hearing Daddy play and sat in their bouncing chairs staring wide-eyed as Sherlock played along to the [theme tune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NQ5ku4z1pjs) to In The Night Garden. Sherlock had realised that playing a selection of kids TV themes kept the children entertained for hours allowing John to finish the housework or catch up on his sleep. Not that Sherlock minded, he loved looking down at his two boys wiggling their bums in their seats,

Sherlock was about to launch into songs from The Lord of the Rings when he heard the front door open and the sound of Mycroft’s footsteps on the stairs. John turned and looked at the time, far too early for one of Mycroft’s usual case related visits. John dried his hands on a towel and returned to the living room to await his ( _sort of)_ brother in law.

The babies’ bottom lips wobbled as Daddy Sherlock stopped playing but soon ceased when they saw their Uncle Myc come through the front door; his face pale and his eyes slightly red.

‘Mycroft?’ John asked concerned, moving to grip Mycroft’s arm and lead him towards Sherlock’s chair where he unceremoniously dropped.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and put down his violin; pacing the living room madly as he glanced up and down at his brother.

‘When?’ Sherlock asked,

‘Last night it seems’ Mycroft whispered.

‘What’s happened?’ John asked looking at Sherlock’s negative reaction ‘can someone tell me? I can’t bloody read minds like you two’

‘Grand Mere died’ Mycroft said sadly

‘Oh god’

* * *

 

John said goodbye to Mycroft who gave each baby a pat on the head as he passed by to the door; the funeral arrangements would be made as Evelyn had intended on being buried in England with her husband. John nodded and asked Mycroft to keep them updated with the details which the politician agreed to,

‘John?’ Mycroft said softly as they reached the front door onto the street ‘watch out for Sherlock, he’s never experienced grief like this previously. We were very young when Grandpa died so this is his first family bereavement’

John nodded and promised to look after Sherlock before turning around and walking back into the flat; Sherlock stood in the arch between kitchen and living room, staring off into space.

‘Sherlock?’ John asked walking closer and running a hand through Sherlock’s curls

Sherlock didn’t respond; his vacant stare worrying John until the younger man snapped out of his trance and walked to the bathroom; locking himself in, John heard the forgotten sound of Sherlock gagging and retching as he brought up his lunch. John sighed sadly and pressed his head to the cool wall as the two babies began to get restless.

‘Shit’ John swore.

* * *

 

‘Sherlock, please come out’ John coaxed quietly. He had taken the boys downstairs to Mrs Hudson who was watching them whilst they napped to allow John to try to speak to Sherlock who was still refusing to unlock the door or talk to John ‘can you at least let me know you’re okay? That you’re conscious at least?’

‘Yes. I’m conscious’ Sherlock mumbled through the door.

‘I know you’re sad, but you need to come out. We need you’ John soothed through the wooden door between them.

‘John. I wonder; could you pass me my shaving kit please?’ Sherlock asked calmly

John frowned and shook his head ‘No. I’m not going to let you hurt yourself’

‘What do you mean no?’ Sherlock seethed, anger resonating through the panel between them ‘You don’t get to decide what I do’

John exhaled ‘Please, don’t do this. You’ve done so well’

The first loud bangs startled John as Sherlock began picking up objects and hurling them across the room; bottles of shampoo bouncing from the floor as Sherlock cried out and screamed in pain and loss. John’s stomach dropped as he heard the crying and gagging from Sherlock who was obviously attempting to purge himself.

‘Sherlock please’ John cried, his eyes filling with tears ‘Please’

‘I need to cut John’ Sherlock shouted ‘I need it’

‘I can’t let you’ John sobbed, pushing his head against the door in an attempt to feel closer to Sherlock ‘open the door let me help’

‘You can’t’ Sherlock replied sadly.

‘I have an idea’ John whispered as he got up from his seat on the floor and walked to the freezer; he collected a handful of ice-cubes and returned to the bathroom door ‘here, open up’

Sherlock cracked open the door and peeked around the wood at John who was cringing at the cold feeling in his hands ‘hold these’

Sherlock frowned but opened his large hands to take the ice-cubes from John. He held them tightly and looked quizzically at John ‘what are you doing?’

‘Keep holding’ John insisted, watching as Sherlock looked down at his hands.

‘It hurts’ Sherlock said ‘It’s cold’

‘Exactly’ John smiled, wiping away Sherlock’s tear tracks ‘It hurts without you actually harming yourself’

Sherlock blinked and nodded before closing the bathroom door and sliding to the floor with his back against the wood; he felt John do the same.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John called Mycroft and despite it being past 1 am, the politician arrived with Greg in tow fully suited and carrying his umbrella looking like it was a normal day. John opened the door in his pyjamas and dressing gown and invited them in,
> 
> ‘How is he?’ Mycroft asked nervously,
> 
> ‘Tired, emotional… manipulative’ John whispered the final word.
> 
> ‘Sounds like my brother’ Mycroft sighed softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two, more angst
> 
> *TW description of eating disorder and manipulation
> 
> Pretty sure I'm projecting my angst onto you guys. Started with babies and ended with dead grandmothers. Sorry about that. I'm feeling better though so maybe it's therapeutic

As the pair waited for Mycroft’s details on the funeral; John found himself being drawn to Sherlock’s eating habits far more than ever before. The younger man had claimed not to be hungry as often as previously which John put down to grief and stress, however, when John discovered that Sherlock had been hiding food inside napkins to dispose of later, his paranoia was peaked. John acted as though he hadn’t noticed when Sherlock cut his food into smaller portions and moved them around the plate; the detective focussing on fussing with the babies rather than eating.

John also realised that a few of his laxative tablets had disappeared; the doctor used them whenever his shoulder played up as the codeine he took to stop the pain affected his bowels. He noticed that whole strips of his tablets had gone from their box and his stomach cramped as he realised that Sherlock was probably using them to purge rather than be sick which was much more obvious in a small flat. John was heartbroken.

Albert and Ben had been particularly crabby due to teething issues which had caused strain on both men as they struggled with lack of sleep and a grieving Sherlock. John watched as Sherlock undressed for bed, noticing his thinner frame and the prominent rib bones which hadn’t been seen for many years. John felt a lump in his throat as he pulled Sherlock into the bed and kissed him passionately; attempting to sum up all his feelings in just one kiss.

‘John?’ Sherlock asked quizzically ‘are you quite alright?’

‘No’ John admitted ‘I know what you’re doing Sherlock’

‘I don’t know what you mean’ Sherlock lied, his eyes refusing to meet John’s,

‘My laxatives? The hiding of food? _This’_ John said as he ran his fingers over the hipbones beneath Sherlock’s boxer shorts ‘you need to stop Sherlock’

‘I’m fine’ Sherlock spat angrily

‘No. You’re not’ John whispered tearfully ‘Do you think your Grandmere would want to see you like this?’

‘Don’t bring her into this’ Sherlock snarled, momentarily frightening John with the intensity of his gaze.

‘Okay,’ John nodded ‘what happens when Mycroft finds out? Have you thought of that?’

‘How would he find out? He’s so busy with the funeral and the general election he wouldn’t know’ Sherlock smirked

‘I’d tell him. I won’t lie to him, not about this’ John warned

Anger flashed in Sherlock’s eyes as he stared at John ‘Why would you do that to me?’

‘BECAUSE I NEED YOU!’ John shouted before calming himself immediately; he listened for the babies stirring in their bedroom ( _his old one)_ and relaxed when there wasn’t a sound ‘We need you. I can’t do this without you Sherlock’

‘I’m not going anywhere’ Sherlock rolled his eyes ‘I’ve just… forgotten to eat. I’ll do better’

John closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat ‘Sherlock, please don’t lie to me. You’ve never needed to before, please don’t’

Sherlock stared at his hands sadly and nodded with tears in his eyes ‘I need help’

* * *

 John called Mycroft and despite it being past 1 am, the politician arrived with Greg in tow fully suited and carrying his umbrella looking like it was a normal day. John opened the door in his pyjamas and dressing gown and invited them in,

‘How is he?’ Mycroft asked nervously,

‘Tired, emotional… manipulative’ John whispered the final word.

‘Sounds like my brother’ Mycroft sighed softly.

Sherlock was waiting in the living room; his hands gripping a cup of warm tea shakily as he sipped it and awaited his brother. John led the two visitors in who smiled at Sherlock and took a seat on the sofa,

‘I’m sorry’ Sherlock whispered,

‘It’s okay Sherlock’ Mycroft gave a soft smile to his brother ‘We’ll get you better’

The men decided that as the funeral was to be held the following week; Sherlock would be sent to rehab immediately afterwards and in secret. Neither Holmes brother wanted to upset their parents any more than necessary and decided to tell them that Sherlock would be away on a case. Sherlock sobbed as he pulled his feet under his bum and wrapped his arms around his legs, despite being almost forty, the man looked like an overgrown child.

‘I’ll move in here whilst you’re gone’ Greg insisted ‘I’ll help John with the kiddies and make sure he’s still sane when you get back’

Sherlock nodded sadly and whispered a thank you as the men bid him goodbye and left into the morning dawn.

* * *

 

John and Sherlock had travelled to the Holmes Manor the day before the funeral in order to help with some of the final arrangements; discussions had been held regarding the babies and what to do with them. John insisted he didn’t want them attending the funeral and whilst he had no objections to staying behind at the manor, he realised that Sherlock would need his support. Greg had agreed and offered to stay with the boys since he hadn’t met Evelyn and Mycroft was insistent that he didn’t want or need his hand holding during the service.

Sherlock dressed in his black suit and sighed as he pressed another hole into his belt to keep his trousers up; he had realised that he was losing weight; he knew that hiding food and taking laxatives wasn’t a healthy coping strategy but his mind was so clouded with grief and sadness that he couldn’t focus on anything. He looked at his lank hair in the mirror and attempted to tease it into his usual curls as John walked into the bedroom with a smile,

‘You okay?’ John asked, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s cheek.

Sherlock nodded and exhaled shakily as he turned to help John with his tie once more; a smile crossing his lips as he remembered doing the same thing the first time John met his parents. The two men spent a moment in quiet contemplation before a soft knock on the door signalled the arrival of the hearse.

* * *

 

Greg plugged the babies into the double buggy and grabbed the supply bag from the top as he began to push the pram through the doorway and down the gravel driveway. Mycroft had given him a brief tour of the grounds previously ( _including a very, very filthy experience in the gardeners shed)_ which allowed Lestrade the opportunity to explore with the babies. Greg walked down the path and smiled at the two boys cooing and chattering to one another in their seats as he looked around at the various fields and creatures.

‘Oh, a rabbit’ Greg exclaimed as he looked over at the bunny hopping across the field.

The boys and their DI babysitter enjoyed a long walk through the orchard and down to the stable where Greg fed the horses’ sugar cubes from his hand, watching as the children shouted happily at the strange creature in front of them.

Lestrade pulled out his phone and opened his camera; recording the boys chattering to one another and the horse with a smile.

When Sherlock and John had first discussed having a child; Lestrade wasn’t sure it was a good idea. John was practically raising a forty-year-old man-child without the responsibility of another baby, however, watching Sherlock’s dedication to his children and John, he had immediately changed his mind and realised that the children were the best thing to have happened to the pair since their accidental first meeting.

Greg looked down at Albert who was frowning at his brother in an eerily similar way to Sherlock’s own expression. He took a photograph of the face and chuckled to himself as he stroked through both boys hairs,

‘Let’s go back. Your daddies will be home soon’ Lestrade smiled ‘We’ve all got to be brave for daddy Sherlock today. He’s going to miss you very much when he’s away’

* * *

 

John supported Sherlock around his waist as they exited the small church where the service was being held; the church was a Holmes family tradition, Evelyn and her husband had been married there as had Violet and Gerald; the Holmes children had been christened there and all funerals were performed by the same vicar who was an old family friend.

The doctor took his seat beside Sherlock at the end of the row allowing Sherlock to be sandwiched between Mycroft and John. Mycroft remained stoic throughout the service with only the occasional hiccup of sound escaping his lips as the eulogy was read whereas Sherlock sobbed and cried silently, his head hanging low on his chest as he gripped John’s hand tightly in despair.

Mycroft bit his lip and moved his hand to grip Sherlock’s other hand tightly; his thumb stroking Sherlock’s skin. John watched in shock as Mycroft showed his love for his brother in such a natural way, causing a lump to form in John’s throat as Sherlock looked up to stare at his brother and nod almost imperceptibly, thanking his brother with his eyes as the final readings were performed.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst, hint of smut, abuse of poor Billy the Skull.

Sherlock sobbed quietly as he said goodbye to his children and John; giving them all long cuddles and whispering his adoration to each as the black sleek car waited for him to take him away to rehab. Sherlock’s body trembled terrified as John held him close;

‘I love you so much’ the doctor whispered to his lover ‘once you’re better, we’ll go away for a holiday with the kids’

Sherlock nodded and exhaled shakily as tears streamed down his cheeks; the babies could sense the emotional energy and became restless until Mycroft and Greg held them tightly and soothed them as best they could.

‘You have everything?’ John asked pulling out of the embrace and wiping away his tears ‘Phone? Money? Laptop?’

‘Yes,’ Sherlock nodded wiping his eyes with his sleeve,

‘We’ll talk on webcam every night’ John insisted

Sherlock nodded and picked up his small suitcase before throwing it down against and flinging himself into John’s arms ‘Please don’t make me go’

‘Shh,’ John whispered, his voice choked with emotion ‘You’ll be home soon’

Mycroft handed Ben to John and helped Sherlock into the car before speaking to the driver. Sherlock wound down the window and gave a sad smile to the people he cared for most in the world as the driver started the car and began their journey. John managed to control his emotion until Sherlock’s car turned the corner when he passed the baby back to Mycroft and sobbed, his chest heaving with each breath.

* * *

 

**Two Weeks Later:**

‘ _Little pig, little pig, let me in’_ Sherlock said softly. John smiled as he watched the two boys looking up at their daddies face on the laptop placed beside their cots as he read them a bedtime story. They had ensured that the children continued to have their nightly bedtime story read to them by Sherlock who loved and treasured the moments alone with his boys even from hundreds of miles away from where he was staying in a sterile and cold rehab unit.

Ben’s eyes fluttered closed quickly followed by Albert’s which allowed Sherlock to say goodnight and be picked up and taken back into the living room with John. John left the laptop alone whilst he tucked the boys in and wrapped them up in their blankets before turning off the lights and returning to his seat on the sofa.

‘How has your day been?’ John asked casually as he sipped a bottle of beer and looked down at Sherlock’s pale and tired face.

‘Exhausting’ Sherlock admitted ‘they made me do group therapy’

‘Oh Christ’ John laughed

‘It didn’t go as planned…’ Sherlock admitted ‘I started making deductions about the other patients and doctors; I thought I could gain the upper hand’

‘And it didn’t work?’ John asked,

‘Not really… they think I’m a psychic’ Sherlock scoffed.

John chuckled gladly and rolled his eyes as Sherlock listed some of the more gory details about his fellow patients; something John was sure broke every confidentiality rule in the book but he had missed his lovers' voice so much. The flat was too quiet even with the babies and Greg staying over; it felt too big with the absence of Sherlock’s presence.

‘I miss you too you know’ Sherlock whispered looking away from the camera and stroking a hand through his hair ‘and I know it’s my fault’

‘It’s not your fault, you’re just ill’ John soothed,

‘I should have seen the signs’ Sherlock mumbled ‘Should have recognised I was relapsing’

‘We both should have’ John whispered in reply, he was desperate to hug and hold Sherlock tight. To whisper sweet nothings into his ear and tell him everything would be fine.

‘Where’s Greg tonight?’ Sherlock asked casually, shaking away the depressive tone of his voice.

‘Work. He was called in’ John answered ‘he should be back later though’

‘Does that mean we’re home alone?’ Sherlock asked saucily,

‘Yes…’ John lingered on the word, dragging it out seductively as he looked down the camera at his lover who had moved to the entrance to his private room. None of the doors had locks on so Sherlock improvised by blocking the entrance with towels and his belongings; creating a barrier for the visitor to get past before they could enter.

‘What do you have planned?’ John smirked as he ran a hand over his already bulging cock.

‘One thing I’ve found since I’ve been here’ Sherlock whispered as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt ‘is that now I’m eating regularly again, my sex drive has increased’

‘Oh?’ John smiled ‘and what can I do about that?’

‘Dr Watson, you can take off your pants’ Sherlock smirked in reply

* * *

 

John stripped naked and sat back on the sofa; cock in hand as he stroked himself slowly and lazily as he watched Sherlock strip himself on camera. Sherlock positioned the camera so it was at his feet pointing in a way to ensure Sherlock’s entire body and face could be seen by John whilst John left his laptop on the coffee table.

Sherlock stroked a hand down his throat and chest; tweaking his nipples and moaning slightly as he bit his lip to hide the groan, John followed his progress and mirrored the touches, lingering on his own peaked nipples momentarily before rubbing across his slightly round tummy.

The detective licked his lips and wrapped a hand around himself stroking roughly once and spreading the precum around the shaft to lubricate himself; John did the same, one hand moving to cup and knead his bollocks as the men groaned and whispered filthily to one another desperately.

‘I miss you so much’ Sherlock groaned, ‘I miss your kisses’

John bit his lip to stop himself crying as he twisted his wrist around the tip and back down as his other hand strayed towards his bollocks and perineum. Small gasps escaped his lips as he threw back his head and smiled when he heard Sherlock make the same noises, tiny grunts echoing around Sherlock’s hospital room. Neither man could last long, the erotic sounds and sights of their partner flushed and desperate miles away from one another almost too much to bear as they fucked into their fists.

‘Sherlock’ John moaned softly, his head falling back as the first tendrils of his orgasm began in his abdomen and moved up his spine ‘Sherlock’

‘I know’ Sherlock groaned as his hand worked up and down his length quick and fluidly; precum dripping from his tip to leak over his fist and lower stomach ‘I’m close’

John absently thrust his hips into his fist; holding his fist closed tighter he fantasised about Sherlock’s clever tongue and throat as he bucked and writhed into the tightness. His face flushed in the excitement of his impending orgasm ‘Sherlock, oh god… oh fuck I’m coming’

Sherlock stiffened and released a loud groan which seemed to lodge itself at the base of John’s cock as the detective climaxed. Pearly coloured ropes landing on his long, pale abdomen and chest as Sherlock worked himself through his peak with a soft whine which pushed John over the edge into his own orgasm with a grunt and groan, John caught most of his wetness in his fist as he bent over and collected the substance in his palm before wiping it off on a tissue.

Both men sat panting and naked; Sherlock coated in his own sticky ejaculate as he controlled his breathing and enjoyed the afterglow. John smiled as he watched Sherlock blinked back to reality with a grin,

‘Hello,’ John smiled ‘back with us?’

‘Hmm’ Sherlock mumbled sleepily ‘that was nice’

‘It was’ John admitted ‘but I miss you’

Sherlock nodded and bit his lip as he reached for a discarded t-shirt to wipe himself clean ‘I’ll be home soon. Another three weeks or so’

‘Do you want to watch the telly?’ John asked quietly as Sherlock nodded. John moved the laptop to Sherlock’s usual position and pointed the camera so the detective could see both John and the TV.

The pair sat watching TV together in silence; enjoying one another’s company even from so far apart.

* * *

 

‘Err John?’ Greg called out loudly from the living room ‘you should see this’

John rubbed his eyes sleepily and traipsed from his bedroom where he had been sorted through the laundry to look into the room where Lestrade stood with his hand running through his silver hair and a smile on his lips.

‘What on earth?’ John asked as he looked down at his boys giggling and chuckling on the floor. They had somehow managed to pull Billy the Skull from his safe spot on the mantelpiece and sat beside the unseeing cranium, chattering away as though it was perfectly natural.

‘Christ’ Greg laughed ‘How like Sherlock can kids be? He used to sit and talk nonsense to that thing too’

John watched as Benjamin stood on his chubby, shaky legs and picked up the skull; carrying it in his arms he began to stomp around the room whilst shouting _something_ which made no sense to the grownups but seemed to be perfectly rational to Albert who crawled after his brother without a word as Benjamin walked to the bathroom.

Greg and John smiled at one another as they stealthily walked through the living room to see where the boys had gone.

‘Bugger!’ John shouted as he realised a moment too late what the boys had planned.

A sad plop sounded from the direction of the toilet where Billy now sat at the bottom of the porcelain toilet bowl.

‘Not a word to Sherlock’ John hissed at Greg who was doubled over with laughter.

‘I bloody love these kids’ Greg insisted, wiping a tear from his eye.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘I was supposed to have got cleaned up before you came’ John blushed looking down at his food stained pyjamas.
> 
> ‘I don’t care. I couldn’t care any less’ Sherlock laughed as he grabbed John again before turning his attention to his gummy smiled boys.
> 
> ‘Hello’ Sherlock grinned at his boys ‘I’ve missed yo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock comes home, Babies hit another milestone and Mycroft babysits.
> 
> Also, I don't know which comes first walking or talking. Google gave me an outline so I just made it up

Sherlock was out of the car before the driver had even pulled to a stop; pulling out his keys he quickly opened the black door and rushed up the stairs to find John. The doctor was sitting at the kitchen table feeding the children, who sat in their highchairs quietly,

‘Sherlock?’ John asked ‘You’re early’

Sherlock rushed to his lover's side and grabbed him tightly as he pulled him in for a long and desperate kiss; momentarily ignoring the two babbling children who kicked their legs at seeing their daddy Sherlock in person. John flailed slightly as he held onto Sherlock’s side and returned the kiss before pulling away and resting his forehead on his lovers,

‘I was supposed to have got cleaned up before you came’ John blushed looking down at his food stained pyjamas.

‘I don’t care. I couldn’t care any less’ Sherlock laughed as he grabbed John again before turning his attention to his gummy smiled boys.

‘Hello’ Sherlock grinned at his boys ‘I’ve missed you too’

The boys held up their arms for cuddles and kisses from their Daddy Sherlock only to be disappointed when Sherlock left them in their chairs ‘Not yet, you’ve got to eat your food and become big and strong’ he smiled.

John smiled at Sherlock and handed the detective the bowl of lunch, allowing him to sit down and feed his children for the first time in almost six weeks. John watched as Sherlock scanned the rooms with a smile before his focus stopped on the mantelpiece,

‘What happened to the Skull?’ Sherlock asked with a lifted eyebrow looking at the skull which had moved and looked slightly different.

‘Bloody hell’ John mumbled with a smile.

* * *

 

‘You’re sure he doesn’t mind?’ John asked Greg who sat on the sofa sipping a beer,

‘Not at all’ Greg insisted with a smile ‘He’s delighted’

John narrowed his eyes ‘now I know you’re lying’

The two men sat together whilst Sherlock sorted his luggage from his trip; the boys were napping in their rockers which allowed John a moment of respite to chat with his friend who had contributed so much support over the last terrible few weeks. Lestrade had come over that afternoon to insist that he and Mycroft would have the babies overnight to allow Sherlock and John to have a nice romantic night in ( _complete with a filthy look from Greg who nudged John teasingly)_ without the added disruption of teething twins. Mycroft hadn’t exactly been excited to invite the babies into his townhouse where the walls and carpets were all spotlessly cream and white, however, Greg had bribed him with kind words and even kinder blowjobs until Mycroft had given in and made the call to John who accepted.

Sherlock had only been home one night but John could already tell that the younger man was on the mend; Sherlock had eaten dinner with John and the boys without complaint and was no longer manipulative towards hiding things from John. He had insisted that the children sleep in their bed that night to allow him to feel close to his sons, cuddling them softly and smelling their hair whilst John stroked his own fingers through Sherlock’s bouncy and soft curls.

Neither man had felt the urge to indulge in a sexual encounter; they both wanted to feel close and secure to one another and their children for the first time in weeks. Sherlock had cuddled into John carefully and traced his fingers over both boys, memorising every change to add to his mind palace,

‘They’ve changed so much’ Sherlock whispered listening to the soft snores of Albert and the gentle scratching of Ben’s fingers against the mattress.

It was true; the boys had increased in size and weight as they grew into rambunctious boys who enjoyed cartoons and giggling. Benjamin’s blonde hair now becoming sandier whilst his eyes became darker compared to Albert’s raven black head of curls and dark eyes,

‘I can’t believe they’re almost a year old’ John grinned ‘time has flown by’

* * *

 

Mycroft and Greg arrived at 6 pm after Ben and Albert had been bathed and dressed for bed; John left Sherlock with the children as he went downstairs to open the door, panicking when Sherlock screamed for John. Mycroft, Greg and John rushed up the stairs to find Sherlock sitting on the floor with his arms open and legs outstretched,

‘Listen!’ he insisted as Albert sat at the end of his feet. The boy pulled himself up using Sherlock’s chair and began to toddle shakily to his daddy with a huge smile on his face,

‘Albert, Can you say daddy?’ Sherlock asked

‘Da-Da-Da

All four men smiled as John grinned broadly gushing ‘my clever boy!’ and stroking his dark curls.

Albert looked up at his Daddy John with a chuckle and toddled to his uncle Greg who quickly picked him up and threw him in the air, catching him with an ‘AH!’ noise. Albert squealed excitedly which quickly piqued the interest of Ben who crawled over from his spot beside Sherlock, his arms held high for Mycroft.

The politician lifted his nephew to his arms and held him against one hip ‘shall we leave your daddies to their own devices tonight?’ Mycroft smiled

Albert giggled and began talking gibberish to Greg who acted as though he could understand the toddler’s noises as he nodded and agreed. The DI grabbed the bags full of the babies’ supplies and held Albert on his hip as Sherlock and John gave their kids kisses and said goodnight. Sherlock handed Mycroft the book which he had been reading to the boys and advised his brother that the boys enjoyed when he made silly voices. John couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on Mycroft’s face.

‘Have a good night’ Greg winked as he began to walk down the stairs towards the awaiting car

‘Thanks ring me if you need me. Any issues at all, just call’ John insisted nervously, not used to allowing the boys out of his sight for more than a few hours.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Need you’ John whispered, pulling Sherlock onto the floor (on top of a squeaky toy which momentarily ruined the mood by causing both men to giggle childishly) and straddling his calves as the doctor reached onto the table to grab the nearby bottle of baby lotion. Opening the lid with shaky hands he quickly coated his fingers and pushed his fingers inside his rectum, opened himself up whilst licking and sucking at Sherlock’s bollocks and perineum, ignoring the twitching and angry looking cock which bobbed against Sherlock’s lower stomach. John groaned as his fingers skimmed over the lump of nerves inside him as he worked himself wider for Sherlock’s cock,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty smut smut!

Angelo swept both men into the restaurant and provided the best table in the house especially for Sherlock and John complete with candle and flowers. John held Sherlock’s hand tightly as they looked through the menu with John feeling anxious at how Sherlock would feel eating in public,

‘I can hear you thinking’ Sherlock grumbled ‘I’m fine’

John blushed and looked away from Sherlock’s gaze which had softened immediately ‘John, I mean it.’ Sherlock whispered ‘I’m fine’

‘I believe you’ John soothed, his thumb stroking Sherlock’s skin

* * *

 

The meal was delicious; both men ate their fill as they chatted and caught up with one another. Sherlock talked about his time at rehab and how difficult it had been to be away from John and the children but seeing the happiness on the boys’ face whenever they saw their daddy on webcam ensured that he was no longer tempted to starve or purge. He explained that he had reluctantly partaken in therapy ( _although he refused to do group)_ he found that talking to somebody neutral had allowed him to be more open and honest about his feelings towards Victor and his past. The detective blushed as he told John about the frank discussion he and his therapist had had regarding his fear of anal penetration which had calmed his mind; especially when the therapist had reminded Sherlock of John’s love and devotion, the fact that the older man had no interest in hurting him or forcing him into doing any activity he wasn’t comfortable with. Sherlock had immediately begun to feel better and stronger.

John smiled and felt an overwhelming sense of pride for the detective; not only for going through with rehab but for opening up to somebody who was prying into his own demons. John remembered how hard it was for Sherlock to tell him anything about Victor and was happy that he was finally at peace with his past.

The pair spent the rest of the time discussing the boy's progress; how Albert had taken to frowning in such a perfect imitation of Sherlock that it was eerie. Sherlock giggled as John showed him a photograph ( _sent by Greg which had been taken on the day of the funeral)_ of a very unhappy Albert frowning at a horse. Sherlock felt a wave of pure love towards his children and his lover.

John looked around the restaurant and realised that they were rather secluded at the back allowing them some privacy; shuffling closer to Sherlock he began kissing down the detectives pale neck, sucking a deep purple bruise onto the skin and making Sherlock groan out loud. John chuckled and checked they hadn’t been discovered before pulling the tablecloth further over their legs and unzipping Sherlock’s flies to push his hand inside,

‘John?’ Sherlock gasped, his throat dry and his cock hard.

‘Shhh,’ John soothed as he massaged the thick flesh under his fingers feeling the copious precum sliding over his digits.

Sherlock grasped the table tightly and held on for dear life as John stroked and caressed his shaft under the tablecloth. Sherlock could feel his peak nearing already, too long without any sexual release other than his hand causing him to be on a knife edge of arousal as his face and neck blushed pink.

‘John’ he choked in warning, large black blown eyes staring at his lover in desperation as he frantically tried to thrust his hips into John’s fist.

‘Shhh’ John insisted looking around ‘do you want to get caught?’

‘John’ Sherlock hissed ‘John I… I can’t… _oh’_

John grinned as he felt the first streams of cum covering his fist and the inside of Sherlock’s boxer shorts as he stroked Sherlock through his orgasm. The detective was panting and scrunching his eyes closed in an attempt not to cry out in bliss as John stroked him on the perfect knife edge of overstimulation.

The doctor removed his hand and used his clean one to zip Sherlock back up before moving his hand to his lip and wantonly cleaning the cum from his fingers and palm with his tongue; long licks soon had his hand clean and Sherlock’s cock twitching in a valiant effort to harden again.

‘Let’s not order dessert’ John whispered into Sherlock’s ear ‘I just want to eat you’

* * *

 

The two men practically ran from the restaurant in their rush to get home; John was momentarily startled as Sherlock pushed him down the same alleyway they had used once before for a sexual encounter. John smiled as Sherlock pushed him roughly against the wall and began to snog him passionately, their tongues meeting messily in a race for dominance as Sherlock opened his coat and wrapped it around John to shelter them from passers-by despite it being too dark to be seen. John groaned as the chilly air hit his exposed and leaking cock when Sherlock unzipped him from his jeans and knelt onto the cool pavement below. Opening his mouth; Sherlock pushed the first few inches inside, his tongue focussing on all of the techniques he had perfected over their relationship to drive John wild with arousal. The doctor whined low in his throat and his legs went briefly weak as he felt Sherlock’s tongue licking and lapping at his frenulum.

Sherlock wrapped his hand around the thick base and focussed on the head; stroking and teasing the sensitive glans with his tongue whilst his other hand held John’s hip steady. John wrapped his hands in to Sherlock’s hair and pulled back the raven curls in order to see his lovers face, enjoying the sight of Sherlock’s bow lips stretched shamefully around his girth.

‘Oh Christ’ John groaned low and desperate, attempting to stifle himself by biting his lip,

‘Don’t hide it’ Sherlock begged ‘Come for me’

John wailed desperately as Sherlock picked up the pace, licking and sucking until John stiffened further and gave a final cry of Sherlock’s name before he was coming; coating Sherlock’s throat with his bitter and salty cum until Sherlock could no longer swallow and had to pull away. Small drips fell from his lower lip down to his chin which John swiped with his thumb and fed back to Sherlock.

‘You’re actually going to kill me’ John chuckled as Sherlock got to his feet and zipped John’s softening prick back into his denim.

‘Oh John’ Sherlock grinned ‘We’re only just getting started’

* * *

 

The men practically ran to Baker Street where they closed the door behind them; locking themselves into the flat alone for the first time in weeks as they began to undress quickly before falling onto the sofa. Sherlock smiled against John’s lips as they snogged passionately and kicked off their trousers until they rested against one another, hard cocks pressed together already desperate for a second orgasm. Sherlock could feel the slightly sticky residue from his earlier orgasm still lingering on his prick as John used it as lubricant, slicking it up and down both shafts as they rutted against each other. Sherlock grabbed the back of John’s hair tightly and crushed their lips together; finding it difficult to breathe as they frotted and chased their orgasms,

‘Need you’ John whispered, pulling Sherlock onto the floor ( _on top of a squeaky toy which momentarily ruined the mood by causing both men to giggle childishly)_ and straddling his calves as the doctor reached onto the table to grab the nearby bottle of baby lotion. Opening the lid with shaky hands he quickly coated his fingers and pushed his fingers inside his rectum, opened himself up whilst licking and sucking at Sherlock’s bollocks and perineum, ignoring the twitching and angry looking cock which bobbed against Sherlock’s lower stomach. John groaned as his fingers skimmed over the lump of nerves inside him as he worked himself wider for Sherlock’s cock,

When John felt ready and stretched he grabbed the bottle of oil and poured some onto his hands before stroking it over the exposed and needy flesh of Sherlock’s shaft, slicking him up with the sweet smelling liquid before shuffling his hips further up in order to hover directly over Sherlock’s prick. The detective smiled and placed his hands on each side of John’s hips as they maintained eye contact as John slowly inched his way down until Sherlock’s cock was pressed against John’s rim, begging for entry.

John groaned as he slipped the tip inside him; the feeling of being stretched and filled so perfect that he wanted to cry with relief as Sherlock slowly worked his way inside. John stopped half way to catch his breath and savour the moment ( _it had been a while since he had taken anything anally as he hadn’t had time to use a dildo whilst Sherlock was away)_ of his insides burning and clenching around his lover. Sherlock gripped tightly against pale skin as he closed his eyes and bit his lower lip in absolute blissful agony as John’s muscles twitched around him.

‘God’ John gasped, his head falling backwards ‘So good’

Sherlock ran his hands up and down John’s waist and spine, watching the older man shudder as tingles flooded his body with warmth whilst he circled his hips and searched desperately for the spot which had him seeing stars. He arched his spine to kiss Sherlock and gasped against the bow lips as Sherlock’s tip pressed against his prostate dead on; John wailed and grabbed the carpet tightly as he rocked his hips and rocked backwards and forwards, impaling himself again and again on Sherlock’s thin dick.

The detective’s mind was singing; colours flashed behind his eyelids as John worked him from the inside whilst snogging him wantonly. Sherlock swallowed every moan and gasp, determined to store them forever as John picked up the pace, he grabbed Sherlock’s hands and entwined their fingers as he held them above Sherlock’s head, pushing himself up and down harder, faster, deeper, desperately seeking his climax. The blooming of pleasure up and down his spine, the quietening of his mind.

John moved harder and faster feeling his prostate take a heavy beating whilst his cock bounced up and down with each thrust, slapping against Sherlock’s stomach in an almost comical way and leaving trails of precum over the creamy skin. John realised he was close to his peak without even touching his cock and worked himself harder and faster, each thrust pressing against his nerves and sending another shiver of pleasure around his body. He arched and groaned loudly as his orgasm finally built to a frenzy,

‘Sherlock, oh fuck Sherlock… I’m… oh God’ John groaned out, his eyes rolling back behind closed lids ‘I think I’m going to… cum’

Sherlock looked down in time to watch Johns cock stiffen and twitch further before unloading his second load of the night over his stomach. John wailed and moaned, his breathing ragged as he continued slamming down onto Sherlock’s prick hard as he worked his way through his orgasm which seemed to have taken all of John’s energy and strength.

The detective pulled his hands from Johns embrace and placed them on the older man’s arse, lifting it slightly to allow him space to thrust wordlessly into the overstimulated hole. John grimaced and groaned as Sherlock worked his cock inside quickly before stiffening and throwing back his head,

John was the only word which escaped Sherlock’s lips as he came. A repeated mantra of _John, John, John_ as his orgasm crashed over him like a wave and cast him adrift as his cum fired into John’s tightness. Sherlock felt John shudder with oversensitivity and clench his muscles to ensure nothing leaked out as Sherlock relaxed back onto the carpeted floor with a sated huff.

John leaned down and let his body rest onto Sherlock’s chest whilst attempting to keep most of his weight on his knees as Sherlock whispered sweet nothings into the sandy blonde hair; pressing kisses against John’s forehead as the pair indulged in their orgasmic afterglow.

‘Shower?’ Sherlock asked quietly to a dozing John who nodded.

* * *

 

The two men lovingly embraced under the hot spray as they cleaned one another free of sweat and dried cum. John shivered as Sherlock’s fingers moved to skim over the sensitive and stretched hole which was still leaking pearly cum down his thighs, John didn’t complain when Sherlock pressed two fingers inside to scoop out the remaining fluid and wash it away under the shower water.

John kissed Sherlock passionately, stroking the hair out of Sherlock’s face which had gotten wet and covered the detective’s features like a black curtain much to John’s amusement. Sherlock’s hair was longer than he’d ever let it grow before but John quite liked it as he stroked his fingers through the soft curls,

‘Bend over’ John whispered seductively into Sherlock’s ear watching the detective frown before realising what John intended. He blushed and bent himself at the waist, holding the edge of the bathtub as John positioned himself on his knees and moved his face closer to Sherlock’s most intimate area.

Sherlock groaned as he felt the first kitten licks lapping against his hole; John’s tongue so wet and warm running around his sensitive skin was enough to give his cock a sudden twitch as it valiantly tried to harden again so soon after it’s second orgasm of the night. Sherlock kept tight hold of the bath as John ran his nose up and down the soapy smelling cleft and down to Sherlock’s bollocks where he sucked each into his mouth, humming around them softly.

‘Christ’ Sherlock whimpered as John grinned around the ball in his mouth, moving back to the puckered ring to lap and suck at the muscles fluttered around his tongue. Sherlock moaned low and deep each time John circled his tongue around his entrance,

‘John?’ Sherlock whispered turning to look at his lover

‘Hmm?’ John smiled as he continued licking,

‘I think I’m ready to try and go all of the way’ Sherlock blushed ‘I feel better, more secure and id like to try again’

John pulled his head away from Sherlock’s arse and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand ‘are you sure?’

Sherlock nodded nervously and bit his lip anxiously as John met his gaze and nodded in reply ‘No pressure, but we can try if that’s what you want’

‘I do… but keep doing that a bit longer’ Sherlock smirked as he grabbed John’s head and pushed back, forcing more of John’s face between his cheeks.

The muffled sound of _git_ caused Sherlock to laugh happily as John continued his oral exploration.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock expected to feel panicked; expected an anxiety attack or Victor’s voice to ruin everything but instead, his mind was silent. No deductions, no thoughts or experiments which needed finishing, no worrying about the children or if John was happy; there was only silence and a slow building fizz of pleasure starting from somewhere deep inside that Sherlock had never felt before. Sherlock moved his spare arm to run down John’s back, stroking the soft and silky scar tissue on John’s shoulder as John snapped his hips in a quicker, steadier rhythm. Sherlock moaned loudly as John’s cock tapped his prostate again and again sending sparks of colour blooming behind his eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter on this part, i'm going to start a new story as part of the series as I intend on showing the boys getting older and John/Sherlock being parents whilst getting old. So yeh, Can you please read the next chapter on part 2!
> 
> Smut and love!

Both men cleaned themselves up before climbing out of the shower and kissing softly in the cool air of the flat; the urgent need to orgasm had passed being replaced instead by an overwhelming urge to show one another intimacy which had been neglected for weeks. Sherlock took John’s hand in his and walked them naked and still wet through to the bedroom where they climbed into their bed facing one another;

Sherlock’s face was flushed and beautiful as John stroked through the dark wet curls and kissed Sherlock’s cheekbones and throat. The detective sighed prettily as John began kissing down his throat, clavicle and nipples as he reached for the lubricant which was kept in the top drawer,

‘I want this’ Sherlock whispered seeing the look of anxiety cross John’s face as he clicked open the lid and coated his fingers with the slick fluid ‘I do’

John nodded and moved his hand to Sherlock’s lower half; his lubed hand cupping Sherlock’s balls and stroking the sensitive skin behind it as he relaxed Sherlock further. The detective smiled and wiggled his hips wantonly as he arched an eyebrow in challenge to John who playfully glared,

‘Right, that’s it, you’re getting my best moves’ John insisted as he arranged his body in a comfortable position between Sherlock’s legs and began stroking over Sherlock’s needy and still relaxed hole.

‘Oh, I cannot wait’ Sherlock grinned before stopping when John placed a finger over his entrance, softly circling the skin until Sherlock was relaxed.

John slipped a finger in easily, allowing Sherlock to become used to the sensation before searching out the small bundle of nerves inside his lover. John watched as Sherlock arched his back and grabbed the bedding when John stroked over the small nub, his gaze lingering on Sherlock’s cock as a trickle of precum leaked from the tip.

‘Another’ Sherlock panted breathlessly ‘please John’

John poured more lube to his hand and pressed a second finger inside, the tight hole gripping his digits as he applied more pressure onto Sherlock’s prostate whilst scissoring his fingers wider, spreading Sherlock open in preparation. Sherlock groaned desperately and rocked his hips back and forth in an attempt to push John inside him further, the sensations perfect agony as he sought more and more.

‘Another’ Sherlock insisted, his cheeks now flushed with two spots of colour high on his cheekbones as he looked at John with huge blown pupils ‘John please, I need more’

John bit his lip remembering the last time they had attempted to get this far when Sherlock had had an anxiety attack over the memory of Victor. Steeling himself for a negative reaction, John pushed in the third finger alongside the two already inside, feeling the tight hole refuse to budge momentarily before Sherlock forced himself to relax and breathe through the slight burn and stretch. John was soon knuckle deep with all three fingers as Sherlock keened loudly, his eyes rolling backwards in his head as he rocked his hips hard and fast.

‘I’m ready for you’ Sherlock whispered,

John maintained his position for a little longer; bringing his head up to meet Sherlock’s lips for a deep and passionate kiss as he stroked and stretched Sherlock’s insides. His own cock had become extremely interested in proceedings once again, surprising him that even at over forty, he still had the stamina to go multiple times in a night. He used his left hand to grip his cock and tug back the foreskin which hugged his tip tightly before removing his fingers from Sherlock and lining up his cock in the space.

‘Are you sure?’ John asked carefully, moving his arms to box in Sherlock’s head as he lowered his lips and kissed his lover.

Sherlock nodded and groaned into John’s mouth as the doctor slowly began to push inside; he took it extremely slowly, slower than he had known possible as he inched his way inside Sherlock’s almost virgin body. The detective had only known a sexual relationship with Victor; a violent and aggressive bully who had hurt Sherlock with not only his own body but with homemade toys which had forced Sherlock to become terrified of anal experimentation regardless of the situation. John intended to change his mind and show Sherlock that it could be pleasurable and remarkably beautiful if done with somebody you loved.

John wrapped his hair into Sherlock’s curls and pulled gently as he licked at Sherlock’s lower lip; the detective whined low in his throat as John pulled Sherlock’s legs up slightly, changing the angle as he pushed the remaining few inches inside his lover.

‘Oh god,’ Sherlock cried, his eyes suddenly wide and staring at John ‘ _John! John, John, John’_

‘Its okay, I’m here’ John soothed, moving one hand down to Sherlock’s hand and entwining their fingers together ‘does it feel nice?’

Sherlock stared wordlessly at John and slowly nodded his head as John began to pull out; Sherlock could feel every vein in John’s cock pressing against his sensitive insides as the doctor moved in and out gently, starting a modest rhythm which soon had Sherlock cooing and whimpering in the back of his throat whilst John kissed him breathless.

Sherlock expected to feel panicked; expected an anxiety attack or Victor’s voice to ruin everything but instead, his mind was silent. No deductions, no thoughts or experiments which needed finishing, no worrying about the children or if John was happy; there was only silence and a slow building fizz of pleasure starting from somewhere deep inside that Sherlock had never felt before. Sherlock moved his spare arm to run down John’s back, stroking the soft and silky scar tissue on John’s shoulder as John snapped his hips in a quicker, steadier rhythm. Sherlock moaned loudly as John’s cock tapped his prostate, again and again, sending sparks of colour blooming behind his eyelids.

‘John’ Sherlock whined low, he wasn’t even aware he was speaking any longer but his brain kept insisting on saying John’s name to ensure that it was real.

‘Yes Sherlock, right here’ John smiled, his genuine grin shining from John’s flushed and hot face as he picked up the pace again, feeling his bollocks slapping against Sherlock’s arse ‘is this okay?’

‘Don’t ever stop’ Sherlock gasped, his back arching with every pounding hit to his special spot.

John chuckled and agreed as he removed his hand from Sherlock’s hair and moved it to his lover's cock; Sherlock almost screamed in pleasure as John’s thumb ran across the sensitive and leaking cock tip as he spread the precum up and down Sherlock’s shaft in a matching rhythm to their thrusts. John could feel Sherlock’s balls becoming tighter, pulling up further to the body as Sherlock’s prick began to bob and twitch in John’s hand. Bringing his hand to his lips, John spat onto his palm and moved it back to Sherlock’s cock, stroking and caressing the flesh until he heard the familiar tell-tale signs of Sherlock getting close to orgasm.

‘J-John’ Sherlock stammered ‘I’m going to… oh god… I’m so close’

‘Let it go, come for me’ John whispered into Sherlock’s ear as he bit the fleshy lobe before moving to the join of neck and collarbone, sucking a deep purple mark into the skin.

The noise which escaped Sherlock’s lips was one John had never heard before; a half scream half cry echoed around their bedroom as the younger man arched his back and clamped down around John’s prick inside him. His muscles twitched and fluttered around John’s dick as he started to cum, bright white cum leaking from his prick and soaking his lower stomach; John thrust a final time and held on tightly as his cock desperately tried to pump more cum into his lover but finding almost none after his previous mind-blowing orgasms.

John still shuddered and groaned through his climax as Sherlock mewled contentedly and lazily stretched out underneath John to steal a kiss from the sweating and panting doctor above.

‘You’re bloody amazing, do you know that?’ John whispered down to Sherlock who looked back at him with clear and sparkling eyes.

‘It has been said’ Sherlock quipped before both men burst into giggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter on this part, i'm going to start a new story as part of the series as i intend on showing the boys getting older and John/Sherlock being parents whilst getting old. So yeh, Can you please read the next chapter on part 2!


End file.
